One More Day
by catgirlutah
Summary: Right. So, it would help if you read All Hallow's Eve first. But you don't have to. This is the tale of a twentyfirst century woman in the past with Jack from his point of view...
1. Chapter I

Disclaimer: I do not -sob- have permission to be writing this...savvy? 

AN (12/24): "Merry Christmas, loyal reviewers! Merry Christmas, people who read this and don't leave their comments! Merry Christmas, Jack!" I just watched _It's a Wonderful Life_ for the first time in my life...good movie, tis. Anyway, I wish you all a very merry Christmas, and I hope that you enjoy this sequel to All Hallow's Eve. The title is subject to change. Anyone who tells me what tis from gets...a special Christmas present!

**One More Day: Chapter One**

"Wow," she said softly, glancing around the quiet (well, relatively quiet) alleyway as she touched the tavern wall in front of her, as though checking to make sure that the building that had suddenly materialized in front of her was real. The whole process had been a bit nauseating, to say the least, and I couldn't believe she'd actually touched that wall.

"D' ye 'ave t' touch that?" I asked suddenly, cringing inwardly as her fingertips probed the wall for a moment, feeling the contours of the brick. The overall decibel level here was quite loud (in comparison to the deathly silence of the graveyard) and full of sounds I loved. Bawdy women chasing drunkards...fights erupting in the middle of the street...the "screams" of "innocent" strumpets...how could a man not like Tortuga? However, now that I had-I still couldn't believe it-a bonny lass, I probably wouldn't be able to stay up all night getting drunk on women and rum. What a pity.

"Of course I don't _have_ to touch it," she replied with that impish little smile that actually made my heart flutter. "Why? Ya got a problem with me touching things?" If only she knew what a minx she was! She surely would've played harder to get, and I probably would've had a broken jaw by now, from her slaps...

"Well, luv," I responded calmly, gently pulling her away arm away from the wall so she would stop caressing the rather stained brick. "Tis in these sort of alleyways that drunkards come t'...well, le's just say tha' the brick is far from clean."

She made a disgusted face by wrinkling her nose as she realized what I was insinuating. The hand reflexively went to her dress as she wiped it furiously against the powder blue dress that left very little to a man's imagination. "Did," she stopped herself and made a bit of a face as she started over with, "Do you have any soap?"

Of course we had soap! Did she think humans were some sort of wild animal, in the past? Of course, it'd be much more fun to tease her about this...so I replied with, "No, I don't have any soap." I wasn't exactly lying...I really didn't have soap on me, right this instant.

Her nose wrinkled again as she continued rubbing her hands against her skirts. She stared at me for a moment, suddenly saying, "Goober."

"Goober?" I asked, greatly amused by her unique insult. She always had something new to say to me. "I tole ye the truth." I pretended to be greatly hurt by her lack of faith in me.

"Fine." She didn't seem to be swayed by my false wounded look, so I dropped it. "Do you know where I can get some soap?"

"Wiv wha' money?" The look on her face was priceless as she felt around her skirt and realized she had no pockets, and therefore, no money. I just liked aggravating people sometimes...it was a bad habit, when I was in danger.

"Jack? Can I have some money?" she asked, glaring reproachfully at me as she recognized the laughter in my eyes.

"What for, luv?" I asked soberly, though I obviously knew why she was asking for it.

"To get me some soap, of course." Her eyes were full of so much pleading that I felt I had to relent. How did women perfect that look at such an early age, anyway? I had to use a lot of self-restraint to slowly shake my head. "Why not?"

"I've got some perfectly good soap aboard the _Pearl_, luv. Made wiv less animal fat than wha' ye could find 'ere, anyway."

"Soap is made from animal fat?" She pulled another disgusted face as her hands rubbed against the material pressing next to her hips subconsciously.

"Aye, tis. I really should've remembered t' bring some of yer soap back wiv us." I really should have. It was amazing what sorts of conveniences people in the future-well would it be the fictional future, for me?-it was so very confusing, traveling in time and across reality. I don't think she realized how unnerving it had been for me to see myself on that...what was it called? Ah, yes, television. I'd nearly passed out, upon seeing myself-it couldn't have been me, though-because it was so realistic. Almost exactly how I remembered it (of course I hadn't been able to see myself, from above). I didn't think it really could've been me, for I didn't remember seeing any sort of...oh, blast, what was it called? (Or would it be, what is it called?) Camisoles...came rate, camel, caramel...camera! That's it. I don't remember seeing any cameras following me. I'm just glad she turned off the silly pictures, before I started to doubt my sanity (again).

"I suppose I should've been thinking too," she commented, looking a bit distressed for a moment. Her face suddenly lit up as a smile graced her gentle features. "I did remember t' bring some Advil and Tylenol, though, among other things." She smiled even more bewitchingly and I forgot completely about the mess of thoughts in my mind.

"I suppose tis all stuffed in'o the bosom of yer dress, eh?" I asked as I winked.

"That's just something you'll have to find out, Captain Sparrow." She giggled slightly and unexpectedly put her clean (thankfully) hand on mine. "Can we go see the _Pearl_?"

"O' course," I replied, hoping that I didn't sound too happy. This girl clearly understood me a lot better than most other women I'd met, and I doubted she'd ever try to tear me away from the sea. Blast...what was wrong with me? Love didn't exist, not for pirates at least. And I was a pirate, after all. Pirates couldn't fall in love with girls younger than their own daughters...

She must've noticed the slightly disconcerted look on my face, for she leaned up and kissed me gently. I liked women with that sort of temperament. They could be divided, basically, into three categories. There were the women who were afraid to initiate any sort of kiss, ever (that usually ended up as librarians or governesses), the women who would occasionally show desire (that often became ornaments, on the ends of nobility's arms), and the women who would throw caution to the wind and actually initiate activities (who usually turned out to be strumpets). She was apparently a mixture of all three, depending on her mood. "Come on, then, where's the harbor?"

I smiled sweetly, vastly amused by her accent. Americans had such curious nuances to their speech. I couldn't see the point in ending almost every word with the proper syllable. It just wasted time. She glared at me for a moment before she started tugging gently on my hand. Blast, I was letting myself get too noticeably distracted-this really wouldn't do. Adopting a grin on my face, I led her to the harbor.

I slowed to a stop as soon as I saw my most prized possession: the _Black Pearl_. It had torn a hole into my soul, the day I'd watched **my** ship sail away under someone else's command. Of course, the _Pearl_ was mine. The vision of beauty, bobbing happily in the harbor and welcoming me back, as though she knew where I'd been was mine. I could choose where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do. I was under the command of no man. I liked to think of the_ Pearl _as my wife (well, that was bound to change, eventually) because I was so attracted to her. To me, she seemed to have moods...to move, like a real person. I would try to coax her to hold on just a bit longer, during horrible storms, because I knew she'd listen to me. Rather silly, eh? A ship couldn't feel anything, as Anamaria liked to point out to me, late at night as I talked to my "wife". The sea had always been my mistress, on the side. When the _Pearl_ and I had "fought" for those ten horrible years...I turned to the sea for solace.

"So, that's the _Pearl_?" she asked softly, putting her arm around my waist. "Beautiful." A woman after my own heart...or perhaps she was so much "into my character", as it were, she could tell what I would think and was only saying what I wanted to hear. That was a rather disturbing thought, but I put my own arm around her waist instead of making a comment.

"Aye, this is the _Pearl_," I confirmed, staring at my ship bobbing peacefully in the water for a few minutes. Life was perfect, eh? Nothing could go wrong, for I had my ship, my health, and a lovely lass to occupy myself with.

"Are we just going to stare at her all day?" she asked with an impatient cluck of her tongue. Where had the timid girl gone? Was she replaced by a strumpet? Or, perhaps she just needed to be helped the same way she helped me when I'd first arrived in her world. Thinking about all of this made my head spin a bit...how did other men do it?

"No, no," I replied, laughing and picking her up as though she were a basket full of feathers. She squealed and laughed, kicking in a mock attempt to get away as I held her closer and started up the docks towards the gangplank to get to my ship.

"Cap'n Sparrow!" she protested as we started up the rather distressed plank of wood. "You scandalous fiend! Just what will the crew say?"

I chuckled easily. "Whatever they wan' t', savvy? Only Anamaria is still aboard, luv. The res' are off, enjoyin' themselves." What would my crew think, when they saw me with her? She was beautiful, to be sure, but in this dress, she only looked like your average strumpet...not like the intelligent (although inexperienced) girl I knew.

"Ah." She smirked lightly and kissed me softly. "Well...in that case, my dearest Jack, I won't be worry about first impressions yet."

I smiled warmly and nodded. "Ye don' really 'ave t' worry abou' them ever...they'll like ye, luv. I'll 'ave a hard time keepin' them away from ye, actually." She laughed softly, and I shook my head slightly. Didn't she see what a great woman she would become, in a few years? Any man would be proud to call her his wife. Ah well...I didn't make a comment to her about her inability to accept a compliment...a time would come for that later.

"Which one's your cabin?" she asked excitedly, apparently forgetting all about my crew as we reached the deck of the _Pearl._ Goodness, I'd missed her...if only I could just spend the afternoon standing at the helm, a pleasant and stiff wind at my back...wait...I had a beautiful girl in my arms! And I wanted to merely waste the day thinking? That was ludicrous, even by my standards.

"This one, luv," I responded, pointing forward with a bob of my head. "Why? Ye anxious t' see inside? Not many 'ave." I smirked slightly as she brushed my hair out of her face. The braid with the small string tied onto the bottom of it was tickling her nose.

"I've always wondered who was right, Jack." She smiled mischievously at me and started playing with the braids on my beard.

"Who was right?" I asked, one of my eyebrows quirking up underneath the red scarf I'd worn on my head since...well, the last time I took it off. Oh, that was really descriptive, eh? If you want to find out, why don't you read some crazy tale about me? I'm sure there's one somewhere that explains that particular quirk of mine...

"Well, Jack, there are two sorts of Jack Sparrow fans out there," she explained, completely serious. I had to change the look in my eyes to match her own before she continued. "Some of us think you have an incredibly messy cabin, full of all sorts of memories scattered all over the place, like your mind...and some think that you have an incredibly clean cabin, because you're hiding some side personality or something that loves everything being right and proper...which is why you went after the _Pearl_, because you had to make everything proper."

I blinked a few times and chuckled slightly. "Well, wha' if you're all wrong? I could have a partly messy an' partly clean cabin, ye know...there's no rule saying wha' sort of way I keep my things."

She smiled and shrugged. "Well, if we're wrong, we're wrong...but I doubt it. How many years ago did you run into Barbossa?"

I frowned slightly and thought for a moment. "Two."

"Well, then, in theory, your room should be arranged however you'll have it arranged for the rest of your life. I'm personally a person who thinks you're a clean man, in your cabin...like your little sanctuary, in your mind."

I nearly dropped her. How could she know about that? Goodness...this wasn't fair! She'd studied my every move inside that blasted movie...and knew how to read me better than any woman I'd ever met, even though she was the most inexperienced woman I'd ever known in bed...

She laughed at me, gently kissing me on the lips. "Oh, come off it, Jack Sparrow...that was just a guess...someone else figured it out. Calm down, my pet...and properly bed me already."

I frowned slightly, but opened my cabin door nonetheless. She'd been right...it was rather clean (for a pirate, at least) because I couldn't stand clutter in the room where I slept. It was a habit from childhood, though. My father had always come into the room to make sure it was clean, when he was home, and if it wasn't...well, lets just say I got to know what a whip felt like better than most children did...


	2. Chapter II

Disclaimer: I do not have permission to be writing this... 

AN (12/26): I am starting to think more like Jack Sparrow...and it is rather alarming me. While I RP with my friends online, I have a hard time not using first person to describe his thoughts and actions... And I'm sorry, that this chapter is Jack's mind apparently likes to wander all over the place...  
Anyway, I hope you all had a merry Christmas!

**One More Day: Chapter Two**

Needless to say, I was rather preoccupied the rest of the evening and into the night...though she was very inexperienced, she made up for it with her willingness to please me. I think she could tell that I was a man who would wander, if I wasn't kept interested. As many times as I'd tried to be faithful to one woman or someone's memory, I'd failed. Anything would and could spark me to infedelity...once, I was pretending to be a man of God...but this beautiful bridesmaid kept winking at me, during some bogus ceremony I'd performed. Needless to say, I hadn't acted much like a man of God after the ceremony was finished and the rain started falling. I'd even lost my true love, because of the distraction of a good bottle of rum and a young lady with bewitching emerald eyes and a body that seemed perfect to my drunken eyes. I really forgot about those I didn't want to hurt, whenever I saw something to lust after. It wasn't until after I fulfilled my often adulterous desires that I realized I was, to put it bluntly, absolutely screwed. I'd lost the respect of more beautiful women that way than I could count, if I'd been so inclined. Of course, I wasn't so inclined...I'd reached the point where I didn't care what other women thought of me.

I'm really rambling, however. I'm sure you didn't exactly want to know about my...less than perfect attributes, eh? So what if I couldn't slake my lust? I was a pirate, after all...a pirate who'd just bedded a seventeen year old girl again that didn't belong in the past. I really hated myself sometimes, after I caved into said lust. Of course, I knew that she wanted it...and it had been very fun. But was I really ready to have a bonny lass again? The last time...well, it had ended tragically.

I could remember it all as though it was yesterday. I'd been a young chap, when I'd first met Meagan Kent, the only daughter of the widower minister in Barbados. Of course, I was probably the only person in the world that considered twenty-five as too young...most men are married off to sixteen year olds by that age...but I definitely hadn't been ready for her. She'd found me, caving into that insatiable desire rooted in the very core of my being after I'd gone on a binge of drinking, to wipe the sight of my own men dancing the hempen jig out of my mind. After repairing my shattered heart after she'd forcefully left (and slapped me), I'd promised myself to never again get distracted by a girl. Of course, I ran into her ironically a few years later, and accidentally shot her...

That, in and of itself, was quite enough to make me wary about getting attached to another woman. What if I chased this new interest of mine off again and shot her in some dark room somewhere because of a stupid jolted nerve...I really hadn't meant to pull the trigger. I shouldn't have even had the pistol cocked, because something was telling me that I needed to go away...but I was good at ignoring my gut instincts. They were far too annoying, most of the time. I shouldn't have ignored it then, though, for Meagan had been a servant in the home...well, I'm not really telling the story right, I suppose. I came up with this rather brilliant (but odd) scheme to getting some revenge on my brother-in-law (who just happened to be the man who killed my mother (a long story) and married my twin sister a few years afterwards, much to my dismay) who happened to be the Commodore assigned to Nassau. You know the stories, that say that I sacked Nassau without firing a shot? Just a bit of a stretch of the truth. I like stretching the truth. If I didn't, I wouldn't sound nearly as formidable a foe, and other pirates would have a very hard time taking me as the serious man I really am.

My mind seemed to wander more now than it ever had before...perhaps I needed to drink less rum. Of course, it could be that the sun was really getting to me, but I remember some of the men in that dank (yet not smelly) tavern back (or was it front? No...it couldn't be that.) in the future saying that alcohol would destroy your mind. They'd also quoted some rather odd scriptures that I hadn't heard before, but had refused to answer any of my questions about said scriptures. Perhaps it was just because I'd gone so long without attending church that they seemed odd...

Her brief stirring underneath my arms made me realize that I was letting my mind wander too much. I really should be asleep...it wouldn't be fun, tomorrow morning, explaining why I had a woman in my cabin with me, when there were plenty of good beds in Tortuga filled with more experienced women. Gibbs would claim I'd lost whatever sense I had, and Anamaria would get jealous (well, that might be my prideful side speaking...she hadn't looked at me in "that" particular way since we'd first parted, those ten years I'd been Pearl-less) over her good looks and my obvious favoritism...that wouldn't be good. I didn't want to anger my new crew, though they seemed to be much better characters than my old crew. Mutiny was never fun...and made me quite spiteful. I'll never forget how mad I was, when I'd watched that bloody weasel sail away on my ship...

She stirred again as I tensed my muscles up. Blast, I was so easily distracted. "Jack?" she murmured tiredly, straining to open her eyes.

"Go back t' bed, luv," I said reassuringly, kissing her softly on the forehead. "I'm still 'ere."

That answer seemed to satisfy her, for she fell back asleep a few moments later. Sighing in slight relief, I pulled her closer to me like an old security blanket and frowned. Goodness, she sounded a lot like Meagan, when she was tired. It forcefully reminded me of that horrible scene, with Meagan's body laying on the floor, losing all of its precious blood because of a mistake I'd made...I knew I wasn't going to get any sleep tonight.

* * *

The next morning was rather bright indeed, as I slowly and carefully slipped out of her grasp a half an hour past dawn. I could never stay in bed all day, except when I was ill...seemed I wasted too much time by sleeping (though, as the result of a rather odd experiment, I knew that I couldn't go more than three days without sleep and still avoid a bit of a mental meltdown) and eating. I didn't spend enough time out in the sun with the wind to my back as I stood at the helm of the Pearl and peacefully floated to my next destination...nor did I spend enough time battling the old hag the sea often became during storms... 

Yawning, I quickly dressed and left the room. She hadn't stirred at all, for I was good at leaving a woman in a hurry without making noise...it happens, when you make all sorts of one night stands. The sun tried to blind me as I stepped out, as though greeting me with a knowing smirk...stupid sun. So blasted annoying, sometimes. Of course, it was a good thing, at the same time. Without the sun, there would be no crops, no serfs and slaves to harvest the crops, no rich men to own the slaves and serfs that harvested the crops, and therefore, no pirates to steal from the rich men who zoned the slaves and serfs that harvested the delicious crops the sun helped create. So, I quickly forgave the glowing orb for my feelings of hatred as I wandered my way over to the railing of the Pearl and looked at the noisy (even from here) city smelling of tobacco, rum, and sweaty bodies. Amazing how entire cities have a distinct aroma to them...Tortuga always reminded me of my favorite things, whereas ports like the dreaded Port Royal reminded me of guns, soldiers and ill-mannered noblewomen apparently too good to admit their relations with a pirate...

"Cap'n?" a voice to my left asked softly as my eyes widened and my mind was pulled from its thoughts of noblewomen.

"Wha' is it, Anamaria?" I asked as soon as I'd regained my thoughts. Sometimes I just had to curb my curious mind. In front of me stood none other than Anamaria...probably one of the only female quartermasters on the planet that could actually muster the respect of a highly suspicious man like my first mate Joshamee Gibbs. When Gibbs retired (for he often spoke of such a thing), I planned on making Anamaria my first mate. She was a very capable sailor, and not afraid to let others know she was a woman. Deserved my respect...and I gave it freely to her. Of course, there had been that time we'd been lovers (and I'd stupidly promised to buy her a ship-I'd done it of course-in an attempt to impress her) and I'd seen a very soft side of her...but she seemed to have sworn off men completely, these days. Except for when we were flirting, aboard the Pearl, as a way to alleviate the intense boredom that accompanies long journeys. I knew and she knew that there was really nothing behind all the playful banter...but the crew thought it was rather humorous.

She smiled very lightly at me and looked towards my cabin. "Busy last night, eh? It isn't often, tha' you bring them aboard the Pearl." There was an impish smirk on her dark face as she winked knowingly and glanced back at me.

"Well, she isn't one of them," I insisted, instantly rising to the chance to defend my bonny lass...it was disgusting, that sensation of injured pride welling up inside of me. I really was smitten with her, wasn't I?

"Really?" Anamaria responded sarcastically, her brow quirking ever so slightly as she watched my stone cold facial expressions. "Goodness, Jack...ye've fallen for a lass?" She looked absolutely shocked as she moved a strand of her dark hair back behind her ears as a stiff breeze hit me in the face.

"Disgustin', isn't it?" I commented almost sadly as I nodded. "Imagine...Captain Jack Sparrow, fallin' for a mere wisp of a girl...ye know, Anamaria, she's young enough t' be me daughter..."

"It is very disgustin'," Anamaria agreed, making a face as she contemplated what I was really saying. Anamaria was one of the few people that could read my moods with any sort of accuracy at all. "When did ye meet 'er? Ye were only gone for an hour or so."

Blast this messed up time thing! If I was only gone for an hour...how could I explain meeting the naive love of my life in that much time? "Uh...well, tha's actually quite a long story," I said, as a way to stall the barrage of questions I knew she wanted to fire my direction. Should I tell her what truly happened? Would she believe me, if I did? Would she believe me if I didn't? Anamaria could be so unpredictable sometimes...

Anamaria rolled her eyes in response and stared at me patiently. "Well, ye know, Jack, I've got quite a while t' hear it...we're not supposed t' leave port until Thursday."

"All the more reason for me t' delay in tellin' ye," I replied, grinning in a way I knew she'd find infuriating."It'd ruin the fun...besides, me dearest Anamaria, I don' think ye can handle the truth abou' 'er yet."

"What?" Anamaria looked hurt for just a moment. "Ye sayin' that she's really a young boy? Ye know, Jack...I'd heard rumors...bu' I din' want t' address them t' ye, jus' in case..."

"Captain Jack," I corrected softly, frowning at the smile playing with the corners of her mouth. "Ye should know tha' I start mos' of the rumors abou' meself."

"So, you're not denying it?" Anamaria asked in response, the twinkle back in her dark eyes.

"Well...tha' one wasn't started by me," I replied, looking absolutely horrified at such a vile thought. She laughed in response, whacking me playfully on the cheek with her palm. "Is this wha' I pay ye for?" I asked, frowning as I rubbed at the cheek she'd hit. I could tell it was in jest, mostly because my skin wasn't screaming. Anamaria had quite a strong slap, and I'd know. It was one of her biggest defense mechanisms.

"Ye hardly pay me a' all, Jack," she scoffed, wagging her finger at me and then rubbing her index finger to her thumb with the universal sign of greed and impatience. "You do owe me a ship, after all."

"An' this will help ye forget it?" I asked, sighing in mock exasperation as I pulled out my coin purse. "It isn't my fault tha' your ship was blown up by the mos' dangerous pirate in the Caribbean, ye know." My fingers started sifting through the smattering of English, Spanish, French, and Dutch coins inside the small linen bag. She liked getting me to give her money...it satisfied some odd urge she had, I suppose, to show dominance over me.

"Of course it will, me dear captain," Anamaria replied almost lovingly as she waited for me to get the coins out of the purse. "Once ye pay me enough t' get me a ship o' me own." She laughed and anxiously grabbed the doubloons I pulled out of the coin purse as she watched me like a hawk.

"Well, Anamaria...don' spend it all in one place, savvy?" I admonished teasingly. "Male company...ye could get money out of tha', if ye wanted t'. No sense in payin' for it."

"Funny, Captain," Anamaria remarked coldly as her lean fingers closed over the golden currency revered by all. I probably gave her far too much spending money...but it was a way I could placate the monster of guilt that seemed to start wrecking my mind whenever I heard her mention the ship I owed her... "I plan on spendin' some of this on rum."

"Well, be careful...I know ye can 'andle yer rum, fair lady...bu' Tortuga is a dangerous town." I bowed as she rolled her eyes and merely left my side. Should I feel like some sort of automatic money dispensing machine? Possibly. Did I? No. I was just helping out an old friend, after all.

* * *

**Aliana Archer:** Yes, Jack is really referring to my story, in the last chapter...I can get away with him saying some pretty outlandish things, seeing as he's Captain Jack Sparrow...  
And no..that's a good guess..the title doesn't come from Les Miserables. Good play, though. Its actually the title to a song they used to sing at sea...the only one I thought would remotely fit the story...Thanks for the compliments and for the review!  
**Jack**: I found the girl a bit annoying, because she was too much like me...well, not really. But she was boring me, so I decided to challenge my sanity. That is a crazy dream, it really is...and I'm glad you liked it. Sorry I've been ignoring you...but my mom is getting really mad at me for being on Neopets all the time...  
**Les Fleurs du Ma**l: Well...uh, I'm glad I made you so deathly jealous...just picture yourself as her, seeing as she has no name, nor will she ever have one... Thank you for leaving me a review, though! I've always wondered, how many people actually read All Hallow's Eve...  
**Misty Addams**: The more I think about it, the more I like writing as Jack. Makes it easier for me to react to things...I mean, to know how he would react to things. I need to get out of his head sometime... And I like thinking about all the ramifications of time travel...just think what you'd do, if you could see yourself in the future on some movie or whatever...I'd freak out, personally, but I'm not Jack (which is a good thing). Thank you for your nice compliments! I'm glad you enjoy my writing so much! I won't let ya down...  
**blossomlite**: Thanks for the nice compliment! And Merry Christmas to you too! Though, it is a bit late...  
**orcachick2005**: Penguin pajamas! I'm jealous! I lurve pajamas...they're so spiffy! I got a pair of pink pajamas for my birthday...I don't really like pink, but they were nice and luffly fleece pajamas...so, I wear them. Nice and warm...makes me snug in bed. Random comment there, but I find my mind wanders when I write like dear Jack... And I still can't see what the problem with that sentence is...maybe you can tell me...  
You find Jack adorable? I'm sorry...I was going for crazy...-grin-. No, tis a good thing you like (and understand) his wandering mind...And I'll get around to fixing that typo, right now. The American discussion..yes, you gave it to me, but Jack wouldn't know any better. He was only in the present until the day after election day...or something. Unfortunately, I can't write fast enough (especially when I'm not on the computer) to keep you satisfied...I hope that an update two days later is sufficiently fast...thanks for all your helpful comments! I should've made him more prideful...but, meh. For your uber long review, you get a loverly digital camera! Yay!  
**Rachel Sparrow**: Thank you, and I will. Since you were first to leave a review on the new story...you get a spiffy limited edition ornament and fuzzy blanket! 


	3. Chapter III

Disclaimer: I do not really know what goes on inside of Jack's head...though, I think its probably something similar to this nonsense I keep writing... 

AN (1/2): I really don't want to start school tomorrow...honestly, I wish I had at least two weeks off...ah well, complaining won't change a thing. Sorry for the delay...took a bit of a holiday from thinking like Jack over the break...

**One More Day: Chapter Three**

I watched Anamaria leave with a certain sense of dismay...she was good company, when she wanted to be, and I enjoyed sharpening my tongue on her, for I knew she could handle any sort of playful banter I threw her way. I wasn't quite sure if I could do that with my new bonny lass...I hoped I could, but she was often quite sensitive. Of course, that was probably because she was a teenage lass, still getting used to the whole "curse" of maidendom...how do I know about that? Well, it involved a lot of rum and rather garbled discussions with several women for me to figure out that whole system...and I hadn't admitted to any woman that I knew about such times in their lives. It would be dreadfully embarrassing, of course, if a man knew anything about it...

The ridiculous notion that the hearth was for the woman had always bothered me...I thought it was great, when women tried something "unconventional". I never revealed a woman's secret, if one offered to join my ship disguised as a man or young boy...I thought it was good for them, to do something other than sit at home. Unfortunately, my opinion was in the minority. I received a lot of rude comments, for me having Anamaria aboard...I was very much aware, after all, that most of my crew thought she was my personal strumpet. How else could a woman have a position of prominence aboard a pirate ship? It wasn't the case...I respected Anamaria very much, actually. She was a fine sailor, and liked to go against my rather odd ideas sometimes, pointing out flaws that I'd forgotten (or decided not to address) or mistakes in the past that I'd rather not remember that were similar to what crazy venture we were about to attempt. If she wasn't on the Pearl's roster, I'd probably be dead by now.

"Jack?" a voice asked softly as the little slip of a girl I'd actually fallen in love with exited my cabin. "How long have you been up?" She seemed slightly worried, but relieved when I smiled at her.

"For abou' an hour, or so," I replied vaguely, not really having a clue as to the answer in the first place. I often let time slip away from me, when I was at a port...there was no sense in counting down the time until I'd be at sea again, for that just drove me crazy. "Why?"

"Well, you had me a bit worried," she replied without any tact at all as she slipped her arm around my midriff and put her head on my shoulder. "Guess I'm just paranoid that not even I can tame the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Luv...I wouldn' leave like that," I replied softly, gently rubbing her shoulder as I looked towards Tortuga with disdain. With her in my arms, it seemed like a nasty, vile place, rather than a sweet, proliferous bouquet..

"I know," she replied softly, though I could sense some disbelief in that as well. Why did women always assume I couldn't be faithful? If I wanted to, I could...sometimes I just didn't want to. A lot of women...well, they got obsessed with me, and refused to leave my side at all...sometimes I was unfaithful just to get them to leave me alone...

"I wouldn'," I insisted once more. "I never leave wivout some sort of explanation, unless, of course, the night was spent with a strumpet." It was true...I never did just leave someone I hoped to spend another night with...besides, I really didn't know what to say to strumpets, in the morning. Thanks...but, I've got to get to my ship. Might want to think about being more creative...but I've already paid you, so I can't give you what I really think you're worth....yea. That wouldn't go over well at all. I wouldn't be such a 'ladies' man' in Tortuga if I did such a thing.

"I believe you, Jack," she said softly, a slight fire in her eyes as I mentioned the strumpets...you know, I had decided to give them up for her. The least she could do was realize that they were a part of my past and not get mad at me for mentioning them. I couldn't just forget about them completely, for they had taught me a few valuable things about women.

"Good," I replied lightly, kissing her softly to get that fire out of her eyes. I was in no mood for a squabble with her today. Of course, I didn't like squabbles any other time...but she'd just come back to my world, after all...we should spend the day doing something (dare I say it?) romantic.

She didn't reply as she turned her attention to the town, her eyes wide in excitement as what she'd done suddenly sunk into her mind. Perhaps she thought this whole experience had been a pleasant dream...but she was actually on the Pearl and near Tortuga. All those crazy fancies in her head had actually come true...alarming. Her reaction was very unlike my own...I'd been absolutely terrified, when she'd taken me to her home to see all of those...oddities. I was just very good at masking my fear. It was a talent that came in handy, when I was at Death's door.

"Lovely, isn' it?" I asked softly, looking towards the town as though I had never seen it before.

"A sweet, proliferous bouquet of piratedom," she responded lightly, glancing up at me with a smirk on her adorable face. That would drive me nuts, if she quoted things I'd said before continually...how many times had she watched that...thing about me? Probably a lot more than I would've liked. At least I hadn't noticed any pictures of myself on her wall, unlike at her friend Daisy's house...that had been very disturbing.

"Aye, that it is," I replied, hiding my disgust. If she did it too much more, I'd set her straight...but it was her first offense, after all. "D' ye want t' go an' see it? I doubt there's anyone else tha' could give ye a better tour."

"Ah...so, I've my own personal tour guide? Spiffy!" She laughed lightly and kissed my hand softly. "You sure you wouldn't mind? I thought that it was...a bit dangerous, if you didn't plan on getting drunk or hooking up with women."

"Well, it isn' dangerous if you've got me wiv you," I responded with a satisfied smirk on my face and a shrug of my shoulders. She did realize that life as a pirate wasn't as fun as most people thought it was. It was actually quite hard. Plagues often wiped out entire crews, mutiny left many to die on small islands, captains were incredibly cruel, and attacks on other ships were very dangerous. Oh my goodness! What was I doing? Bringing her aboard the Pearl...she couldn't...she could die, if I let her stay here...but she'd never let me put her somewhere else, for safe-keeping, because she wouldn't trust me to come back...what a quandary! I hadn't even thought about that, quite frankly.

"Good," she replied, snuggling closer to me for a moment before pushing herself away. "All right, Captain Sparrow...show me around this town." Almost a command. Good thing I was such a liberal man (for the times, at least...I'd seen a man actually buy a respectable woman a drink of beer, in that bar), or I'd be rather mad. Women weren't supposed to tell men what to do...

"Of course, milady," I replied, taking her hand and kissing it like a gentleman. I could be chivalrous when I wanted to...and I decided to just push my worries from my mind. I could protect her, as long as she stayed inside the cabin during fights. It wouldn't be too hard...I'd just have to remember that I had a bonny lass. I liked forgetting everything but my love for the Pearl when I was in a fight with another ship...made it so I fought more ferociously, and had no moral qualms about taking another man's life.

She smiled and curtsied slightly in response, waiting for me to lead her on. I did just that, offering my arm for her to grab, like a respectable gentleman would. I could use manners, if necessary...I knew them well enough, having grown up in a respectable wealthy house...

* * *

"This'd be me favorite tavern," I said as we stopped right outside of the Faithful Bride. They had some of the best rum around...of course, not the best, but the clean mugs and cheerful, winking strumpets were much better than at the place with the best rum. It'd taken me years to find the best drinking establishments...years of trial and error. There was one horrid tavern that actually started serving its customers pure alcohol after about ten o' clock. That might seem like a good thing, but it really isn't. Pure alcohol can blind a man, with just one sip. If you drink a whole glass, or more, you run the risk of waking up dead in the morning. Of course, not many drunkards noticed...most taverns watered down their alcohol at about the same time. Not the Faithful Bride. The tavern keeper here didn't water it down until one in the morning. 

"The Faithful Bride, eh?" she asked with wide eyes, completely captivated by its smell and noise. "It's lovely, Jack." She smiled at me, grasping onto my arm tighter. I think she was a bit wary, that I'd be approached by another female intent on taking my freely-spent money. "Looks exactly how I pictured it to."

Again with the references to the movie! Blast...why had I brought Will here, in the first place? I should've just left him on the Interceptor. Honestly, that stick had overheard too much.... Ah well. How could I stay mad at her for long? She was just too...adorable, I suppose. Man, I'd never thought I'd think that of anyone ever again. It was disturbing, really, how attached I was to her as I led her inside the noisy tavern. I ordered a bottle of wine from the barkeep...an odd order, yes, but the Faithful Bride didn't ask questions of its customers. Once the wine from 1688 was passed to me, I escorted her to a table. We both sat down and I poured us some wine. I doubted she'd ever had the stuff before...unless she had wine at church...so, this would be interesting. I set her mug in front of her and slowly poured my own. I didn't particularly like wine...but I didn't want to have rum. It always only caused mischief, in my life.

She smiled and murmured, "Thank you," before sipping at the alcohol derived from grape. I had to admit that 1688 was a very fine year...and that I'd be paying a lot, for this luxury. Not that I was concerned about the cost of wine. I was never very stingy when it came to showing women a good time...it was good for the economy of the islands, anyway.

"My pleasure," I replied, taking a seat and lifting the mug to my mouth. I inhaled the fragrance; smiling as I realized that 1688 was, in fact, a very fine year. I didn't drink much wine...but I knew that this would please my senses far more than what I'd had before. Wine wasn't something pirates often drank, unless they were trying to impress a hostage or a rival.

She smiled again and took another sip of the perfect blend. Definitely the liquor of the gods. Dionysis...well, he was a very nice god, in my opinion. Much like myself; continually drunk and staggering around after women. Of course, that would have to change for her...I couldn't go after women anymore. Nor could I drink rum anymore, for I was afraid to drink too much and accidentally hurt her by going after some minx that winked at me or something. "Jack?"

"Hmm?" I almost choked on the wine. Why was she asking me a question now? Couldn't she see that I was busy playing with the wine in my mouth? Well, perhaps playing was a strong word...but I was definitely enjoying its different approach at getting me drunk.

She set her mug down on the table and looked at me earnestly for a while. Was she drawing courage, or something? I wasn't really sure...she could be hard to read, at times. "Do you think you could teach me something about sword fighting? I've always wanted to know how to defend myself..."

That was it? Why was that hard for her to ask? Grinning slightly into my cup as I took another sip of the nectar, I nodded. After swallowing, I added, "It'd be wise for ye t' know how t' defend yourself. Life aboard a pirate ship is never easy. Tis worth it, yes...but it is never easy. Too many chances for ye t' get injured...I'm being rather daft, bringing ye along, as it is."

"Well...you are a very brilliant man," she said with a grin. "I wouldn't call it daft...you can tell that I can defend myself. Now...if I was some sort of other girl, I don't doubt that you'd use me for a week and drop me off on some remote beach somewhere, completely ridding yourself of any guilty thoughts as you moved on to your next conquest."

"'Ave ye been talkin' t' Anamaria, eh?" I asked with a slight frown. She'd said a very similar thing to me once, when I'd been rather drunk and trying to...well, conquer her. She'd seen through me, though, and had given me a bruise on my left cheek, for daring to kiss her...that was the last time I tried anything with the tall woman.

"No...has she ever said anything similar to you?" Her eyes were mocking me...I swear they were. "I just happen to know a bit about men like you."

I chose to ignore the question about Anamaria. No sense in giving her any fuel for a later haranguing of words...women could wield words like swords. "How d' ye know a bit about men like me, eh? I'm the only man like meself, as it were...an' yer only seventeen."

She smiled mysteriously and took a sip of wine before responding with, "Aye, Jack, but I've read all sorts of stories that have tried to go inside your thick skull...I'm fairly sure that I know a bit about what you're really thinking. Unless, of course, they were all wrong..."

I frowned and nodded slowly. "Of course they are, luv. No one can tell wha' a man is thinkin', based off a bunch of movin' paintings." So what if I couldn't recall what that horrid thing about me was really called? The wine was starting to give everything a rather pleasant light.

"Moving paintings, eh?" she remarked with a slight laugh. Well, photographs didn't exist in my day... "You're probably right. We've got you all wrong." I didn't like that little look in her eyes...but we dropped that subject and enjoyed the rest of the evening without any little squabbles.

* * *

**Jack**: Well, twenty bucks is more than I have...good luck on saving up for that island. And thanks for the review...Jack does kinda sound like Anamaria's father, rather than captain...but he's an odd fellow, so no worries.  
**Misty Addams**: I'm glad you like it from his perspective...tis rather hard, though, and exhausting. I can see why there aren't many out there. It is really hard to get into his head...and getting out is even harder. Thank you for the compliments and the review!  
**sunkist3208**: Poor Whitney! I doubt that your mum would go so far to actually put sensors in...but still! I'm glad my mum lets me spend a lot of time on the computer, usually...I just have to keep her company, on Saturdays...thanks for the review! And that was a blatant advertisement, for my other stories. Jack keeps dropping other hints, too...and he likes addressing the audience.  
**interruptedxthought**: I suppose some of the insecurity that you're catching from Jack is just because...well, he doesn't like being in love. Horrible memories about it, as discussed in the second chapter. He does have a very big head when it comes to piracy and sailing and rum and pleasing women, though. And I will be bringing in the Turners...not for a while, though, but they will get to meet the woman that actually made Jack fall in love, after only a few days...  
Perhaps Jack does have ADD...who really knows? The heat apparently fried his brain...  
**Eccentric Banshee**: Christmas does have a way of making everyone busy...I'm just glad that you got around to leaving a review. And I'm glad that me making a sequel has made you happy, Sara...my goal in life is to keep you happy, so you'll keep writing. -sly grin- And why were you running outside with no shoes on? During winter? That makes little to no sense...  
**CrazyPirateGirl:** Well...I try to avoid country music, if at all possible. One More Day is the title to an old sea song...Thank you for the review.  
**blossomlite**: Thanks for leaving your opinion!  
**orcachick2005**: I can write fast when I want to. And when I have an idea. I didn't really have an idea for this chapter...which is why tis so...fluffy...but I'm going to skip ahead in the next one, probably. Anyway, thank you for leaving me a review! I'm so glad that you liked this chapter! I know that it is a bit repetetive...but not many of the reviewers above have read all the rest of my stories, yet. I hope they will someday..but if not, meh. Besides, I do throw in a few hints about things I haven't even discussed...  
Oh, I want to tell you that you know what's going to happen to our lovely seventeen year old charrie...I've already decided. I'm cruel, yes, but it leaves Jack open to find Daisy at some later date...talk about star crossed lovers...anyway, you should like the camera. It does zoom, and you can even zoom in on the pictures you take. You can make a Quicktime movie, actually...as well as turn off the flash. Tis uber spiffy. For being the first to leave a review...I'll give you a spiff-tastic glass cube thingy with a pirate ship etched into the glass with a laser...makes it all 3-D. 


	4. Chapter IV

Disclaimer: I do not have permission to be writing this, sorry. 

AN (1/25): Well, I need to get this up before Friday, seeing as I've got regional FBLA competitions...and next week I've got a regional Academic Decathlon competition...so, I'll be very busy and unable to write.  
Of course, I've been incredibly lazy on this one, eh? Sorry about the long delay, but you really don't want me to write when I'm not in the mood to write. I get bitingly sarcastic.

**One More Day: Chapter 4**

"I really don' see why yer so bloody concerned." I frowned slightly at my first mate, Joshamee Gibbs. He was standing next to me on the bridge. It was near midday, and I assumed that most of my crew was in the galley escaping the horrid heat wave that'd come upon the Caribbean over the course of the last few days. I would probably be there myself, if I wasn't so worried about running into redcoats around here. The _Pearl_ was floating near some of the most guarded waters in this side of the world. There was supposedly a ship nearly sinking headed towards England full of silks that would be leaving in the next few days, and I wanted to stake my claim before all the other pirates. Generally, if a pirate has been shadowing a ship for some time, the other pirates will leave said ship alone at least until after the plunder was made. Then the first pirate ship is fair game for anyone and could be plundered by another pirate. We weren't against cannibalism, in that sense.

"I really don' see how ye aren't concerned at all. She's bad luck, Jack." Joshamee was shaking his head slightly, the mutton chops on the side of his face dripping sweat in regular intervals down onto the decks of the _Pearl_. The almost thirsty wood seemed to stare at the rivulets of sweat for a moment before grudgingly soaking it in before it evaporated into the air. Think about it...you were breathing in people's sweat all the time. Especially in the Caribbean. As if the smell wasn't bad enough...I missed the deodorants from the future. They were very nice and made everyone much easier to talk to. Of course, I was from this time period. I personally only took a bath once every six months or so, and that was almost considered too often. Laundry was done very infrequently, especially on pirate ships. I didn't want to hire a laundress, after all, and the ones in Tortuga were liable to just spread perfume and lice and call it good. Why had I left the future again? Ah, yes...because it was unnerving seeing myself.

"Cap'n Sparrow, if ye don' mind." I paused and glanced over at him, wondering if he'd be bothered by yet another of my corrections. It really didn't bother me too bad when he called me Jack when I was off duty...but we were both on duty, and I was the captain and he was the first mate and he'd better remember to call me Captain. I was afraid there would be a day that he would turn on me exactly like Barbossa...really a stupid fear, I know, but I'd been betrayed numerous times before and surely would be again.

"Fine. Cap'n Sparrow." A slight grin made his face seem less...well, grubby. Gibbs sometimes looked quite grubby to me, especially when he was taking a swill out of his secret stash of alcohol. "Still bad luck. Shouldn' 'ave brought the wench along." His superstitions often got on my nerves. I didn't see why more captains didn't allow women aboard...they did twice the work of men with half the complaining. Maybe it was just because of that potential to have children or something... Some plague was affecting every man in the world except for me. I realized that women were sometimes better than me at some things...but the overwhelming opinion of the day was that women were definitely not equal. Amazing how different it had been in the future...

I felt that already unwelcome desire to come to my bonny lass's defense. "So she's a bi' seasick...does that really all matter, eh? You were probably rather uneasy on yer feet when you first went t' sea." I glanced him over once or twice, as though trying to find some indication of possible uneasiness on the part of his feet now. Of course, I didn't spot any. Gibbs had been sailing for nearly as long as I had, as far as I could figure out.

"But I'm not a lass." Oh, how grateful I was for the validity of that statement. A female Joshamee Gibbs would be a crime against all femininity. A small hint of a smile tugged at his face for a moment as he tried to keep a straight face in front of me. It didn't last long and the bursting smile was accompanied by a slight guffaw. However, he regained his composure a moment later and said, "Tis frightful bad luck t' 'ave a woman on board, especially when she's ill."

"Anamaria's brought nothin' but good luck to us." When would Gibbs get over his foolish notions that women were bad luck? Shaking my head slightly, I gripped the helm tighter with my hands to keep myself from throttling him outright. That wouldn't be good for crew moral, after all.

"Anamaria is a sailor...more man than woman. She's a dainty lass who 'asn't worked a day in 'er life." Gibbs seemed to sneer slightly as he mocked my bonny lass's curious accent. I could tell that Gibbs really didn't like her. The whole crew was jealous of my girl's beauty. Of course, she would probably get mad at me, if she knew how often I referred to her in my mind as my bonny lass or my girl...

"How d' ye know that?" Did she broadcast something that said 'I don't work'? If so...I'd like to know why I wasn't catching that at all. She seemed like a hard worker to me...but I could just be biased. I didn't like being biased, really...unless it was profitable. In this case, it was profitable for me to be biased, because if she thought that I didn't trust her, I wouldn't have a warm body to turn to at night.

"Her hands, Jack. Never seen anythin' so silky smooth. Obviously she doesn' know the first thing about tying ropes or swabbin' the deck." He'd been looking at my bonny lass's hands? Why did that bother me so much? They were her hands, after all...not mine. Anyone was free to look at them, especially since she wore scandalously short sleeves because of the heat wave...and short skirts, come to think about it...maybe I shouldn't give her so much creative freedom with her clothes.

"I'll teach 'er." It truly was either Anamaria's or Joshamee's responsibility to see that new members of my crew were at least capable of doing something...but they both took an almost instant dislike to her. I think it was mostly jealousy rearing its ugly green head.

"When, Cap'n?" Hmmm...I hated it when Gibbs asked me questions that didn't have an easy answer. I was captain of the _Pearl_, after all, and had a million things to do that one wouldn't expect me to have to do. Inspections...finding rumors, deciphering maps, cleaning my cabin, checking the compass...I really didn't have time to do anything except my duties. Of course, the relief she brought me at the end of the day made me wonder why I hadn't decided to keep a girl around long ago...

My expression faltered for just a moment as I realized I had no answer. "I'll...I'll make time." Joshamee Gibbs had actually stumped me. Probably the only time it would ever happen. Oh, I hoped it was the only time it ever happened...

Gibbs looked briefly triumphant. The look was greatly mitigated, however, when he wiped at his sweaty brow with a shirt that had once been white and was now gray. "Ye can't make time, Cap'n."

I could always count on him stating the obvious. Perhaps I needed a levelheaded first mate. Or maybe I'd chosen him to show that I hadn't forgotten how much he'd helped me round up my current crew of miscreants... "Well...I am Captain Jack Sparrow. Who says I can't?"

"Nature." A solemn look was on his face as he glanced towards sea and nodded slightly. I didn't really like thinking of the sea as a part of nature, per say. Nature was something that was green and on land and didn't apply to me, really. But I was just trying to fool myself. The great mistress was in charge of the seas as well.

"Ah...right. Well, she's 'ad control far too long. I should a' least try t' make time." I really think that I was the only man in the Caribbean that could get away saying that in a serious manner without sounding too conceited. Of course, I knew that I was prideful...but no one was this prideful, right? It'd be like playing God.

"Ye can't best Nature, Cap'n." He liked to rain on my parade, so to speak. It was annoying, being around such a constant downer all the time. The least he could do was humor me...

"An' ye can't...oh, never mind. She's stayin'." I let a finality to my voice creep out. It was something I generally only used when giving orders or the final say on a dispute amongst my crew.

"We're doomed if she does." Gibbs didn't sound as melodramatic as he had before...maybe I'd convinced him (finally) that I was too stubborn to be swayed by talk.

"Ye can't really mean that, mate." The look on my face was deadly serious. This wasn't a matter to joke about. If he had some actually valid concerns not driven by jealousy, I had to know about it. I wasn't one to take stupid risks anymore. Yet...I felt she needed more defense. "She's not tha' bad, an' a quick learner."

Gibbs pulled one of his 'I really doubt that she is' faces he liked to use around me in taverns, generally. Was it my fault that I could spot one of the sickly ones from across the tavern? He always had the worst taste in strumpets. "Maybe in bed, Cap'n, bu' I had to retie every single knot of hers." Ooh...that was both an insult and probably true...

"Because she's under the weather. When she's used t' the motion of the sea, she'll do better." Why couldn't I accept the probable truth? My grip on the helm had increased dramatically, and I could almost feel my knuckles turn white.

Gibbs shook his head sadly, as though trying to tell me the error of my ways in not so many words. "Ye like makin' excuses for 'er, Captain." Something was significant about the way he'd said Captain, but I couldn't figure it out for the life of me. Blast him and his ability to see the truthfulness behind situations...most would probably assume I was merely playing Devil's Advocate because of her pretty face and voluptuous body.

"So? Doesn' she deserve benefit o' the doubt, as it were? Once she learns abou' knots an' what have you, I really think she'll be a decent scallywag." Maybe I was just trying to get him to believe in my hope for the future. Maybe it was a false hope...but a man could dream, right? So what if I wanted a glimmer of actual happiness?

"Dream," Gibbs muttered softly. He saw through me far too well...I was going to have to change tactics or something. He shook his head, the beads of sweat dripping off his mutton chops to new places on the _Pearl_'s deck. I really don't think she appreciated swallowing the sweat of men like Gibbs who probably hadn't had a decent bath in two years...but she'd pull through it. She was a ship. My ship. I guess that technically made Gibbs's sweat my sweat...disturbing thought...

"What did ye say?" I asked softly back, completely astounded that he'd apparently read my thoughts like that. Was I becoming a television set? It seemed everyone could guess what I was thinking anymore, and it was starting to get quite annoying. I'm secretive for a reason, you know. What's the point of letting everyone know anything about me if they can possibly use it against me at some later day?

"Nothing...it was nothin', Captain." Good thing he wasn't going to make a fight out of this. Though it would be nice to get everything out into the open, it is always better to keep it stored in. At least in my mind. I let my memories properly ferment before I open them again and get drunk off them. You see, if you let your memories sit for a while, they always seem better when you look back at it. For example, I was a very bitter individual after I lost my ship to that conniving Barbossa...yet, after sitting on the memories for about twelve years, I realize I wasn't as bitter as I was depressed because of losing my ship. That's why I hated Barbossa so much. He made me discover myself on that island, and I certainly didn't like what I discovered. Gibbs, of course having no idea what was going through my head at the moment, shifted his weight slightly on his feet before adding, "If yer so certain, I won' say another word."

"Good. I'm positive. Tis only been two weeks, after all." I doubted he'd really not say another word...but it was always best to look on the positive side of things, eh? He could always surprise me and not bring up the issue again in the next few days and weeks. Perhaps my bonny lass could prove herself yet, anyway.

"Of course." He didn't sound all that convinced, but nodded towards me, hinting that he wanted to be dismissed. Hmmm...I'd forgotten that I'd called him here in the first place. I shouldn't have asked him what was bothering him...I'd thought it would be something less superficial than his hatred and jealousy of the lovely lass who was currently ill in my cabin. At least he didn't have to clean up after she spilled remnants of her lunch, breakfast, or dinner on my cabin floor... I really was sacrificing a lot for a pretty face.

"I know wha' I'm doing," I said reassuringly, trying to get that look of doubt out of his eyes. I nodded towards him, indicating my dismissal of him, and he went off towards presumably the galley. It was hot, after all. Even I was sweating under the Caribbean sun. Of course, I didn't complain about her cheerful face. The heat made the water glow, almost, and fade into the brilliant sky as water vapor waved off the ocean's surface to tickle the underbelly of the skies. It was a lovely day...too bad my lass was ill and couldn't enjoy it.

**

* * *

meggumscat**: Well, poppet, you certainly didn't have to wait long for the next chapter like the rest of the reviewers, eh? -giggles- Tis okay that you took so long to read it. I'm just glad that you did, in fact, read it. Maybe now you can understand why I can't stop rambling...Anyway, thanks for the review!  
**Alteng**: Fanfiction ish ebil...they obviously don't know how to count. Maybe I'll still be the lucky number, eh?  
And aye, Jack is giving up a lot for this lass...and he's starting to really realize it, in this chapter. Of course, it doesn't matter, because something will soon happen that will change everything...and then something else will happen that will change everything again. I really don't have any good plans in store for Jack for this one, the poor chap...  
And Jack saw Daisy's room in the very last chapter of All Hallow's Eve...the heroine mentions something about stopping over there to say goodbye, and I imagine that that took place in Daisy's bedroom. Or, she could have her Jack Sparrow posters out in the open, like me. Mine are in the first visible room of the house, above my computer...  
Oddly enough, I don't know what soap is made up of nowadays...only what it was made up of back then...I'm an odd history buff.  
Thanks for your constant support! Keep up your own smashing writing!  
**Redberry Greenleaf**: It is a small world! I've never been to Colorado, though. Wyoming, yes, Idaho, yes, Oregon, yes, Washington, yes, and California...but not to Colorado. Maybe I should go there...is it loverly?  
I'm glad you enjoy Jack's POV...tis hard to write. That man can't think clearly about anything. Okay, maybe he thinks too clearly about everything...I surprise myself with how much I end up actually saying in each chapter...  
Thank you for the review an' encouragement! Sorry it took me so long to update again...  
**orcachick2005**: Aye, a new chappie. I was just eloquent, back then...or something. Of course, two new ones in one day ish rather good for me. And I hope this one isn't as confusing as the epilogue...twas supposed to be confusing, actually. I was confused while writing it.  
And I know that you don't have pictures of Jack Sparrow all over your house...but you now have one poster of him, so there. And who knows? Maybe he's been in your room while you were out. That's kinda creepy though, so, I'm not going to go any further there...  
I really like the waking up dead in the morning quote too. I've always wanted to put that in one of my fanfics...but only Jack can say something like that and really get away with it.  
I did not know that Dionysis turned a crew of pirates into dolphins...that is the coolest story ever! Thank you for enlightening me, oh gracious Daisy.  
I'm not a re-gifter, honest, I'm not. Okay, maybe I am. But not really...I'm giving people random things that happen to be on my desk. Like the squishy fish and the Bonny Kate an' such... Thank you for the calender of Bush mis-quotes, I needed a calendar. Especially one I can quote.  
Thanks for your long review, Daisy! I dunno what I'd do without your encouragement...probably stop writing or something...  
**CrazyPirateGirl**: Oh, I'm not mad that you found the last chapter rather boring. It was rather boring, actually, because I thought it was rather boring while writing it and was just trying to end it...I'm thinking of putting in a fight somewhere in the near future...betcha can't guess what it will be over. Anyway, thank you so much for being honest! I like honesty! And reviews, I like 'em too.  
**sunkist3208**: One More Day is about...well, I can't remember. But Halloween was on a Sunday, so it's probably set about four days after they first met. Crazy, eh? I would be freaked out too, if people knew what I'd said before and I'd just met 'em.  
Thank you for the long review full of issues I already addressed! I love hearing from you, poppet, an' you really need to update those stories...  
**Jack**: Thank you for your honesty...an' I'll get around to Death of a Blacksmith. I swear.  
**interruptedxthought**: Of course we could all be wrong about the way Jack thinks. But, I wouldn't know for sure, seeing as I only think I'm Jack and don't really know him. Just kidding...or am I? Anyway, I think there will be something where she'll be completely wrong about him. And I mean completely. Haven't decided what, yet, but I will decide on something.  
Aye, I know...I don't think I can wait for the sequels, frankly. But I suppose I'll 'ave to. At least there's other Johnny Depp movies to tide me over, eh? Thank you for the review an' encoragement an' compliments! Sorry it took me so long...  
**Eccentric Banshee**: Thank you, luv! It means a lot to me, to get praised by such a brilliant author as yourself. Hope you like this one, and I hope you didn't think I died or something...because of the long wait an' all.  
I wish it was warm enough here to go around barefoot. I like not wearing shoes. And wearing flip flops. But I have to wear hiking boots and tennis shoes...  
Tom Cruise...well, he's okay...  
Thanks, luv, an' keep up your own good work! Since you were first to review, you get a spiffy Mickey Mouse plushie dressed up as a pirate! 


	5. Chapter V

Disclaimer: I do not have permission to be writing this, mate. 

AN (2/2): I'm going to die tomorrow, at the regional Academic Decathlon meet. I don't have any of my speech comparing drugs to television memorized...and I've got to do another fake job interview. I hate job interviews...I hope to never actually have a 'real' job...  
(2/5) :Well, obviously I didn't die. I came up with all of the dialogue in this chapter at the awards ceremony for the regional meet...I didn't win any medals, and its really boring to hear nine different people who win medals for ten different tests...

**One More Day: Chapter Five**

"Jack...are you up?" Her voice brought me out of somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. I would've completely ignored her if I hadn't detected a note of slight worry in her usually cheerful voice. It almost sounded like she was trying to work up courage to ask me a question. That question would undoubtedly be about a favor. I didn't really want to do her any favors, but she was my bonny lass, and I should at least pretend I cared about her little favors (which had thus far been tasks like cleaning up throw up) and dignify her with a response.

"Am now." My eyes were full of sleep. She had finally recovered from her seasickness a few days ago, so I had spent the last few nights teaching her about knots (Gibbs's worries really weren't weighing on my mind, obviously) and had only been getting about three hours of sleep each night because of my body's refusal to sleep past sunrise. I was certainly tired. No wonder my cabin seemed darker than it normally did: I wasn't sure if my eyes were open or not.

"Sorry." She didn't sound very apologetic. Not that I really expected her to sound apologetic, of course, but it would've been nice, this late at night.

"Don' worry about it, luv." I brushed my hand, nearly whacking her arm with my fingertips. That could be a bad habit, at times, but my hands seemed to have a mind of their own. She remained silent and I bit back the impulse to snap at her for waking me up for no reason. "What is it tha' ye want, then" My voice didn't sound all that intimidating. It was mellow and smooth, even though I still couldn't tell if my eyes were open or not. I was starting to think they were closed. If she wasn't talking to me, I'd be in dream land right now, my subconscious throwing random images at me to tell some insane story. I missed having dreams. They were a good way to escape.

"I...I...thanks, Jack." I got the impression she was about to say something else and had settled on just thanking me, based on the way she stuttered over I and quickly said the grateful comment. Odd. Why would she have a hard time talking to me? I tried to be as open as possible with her especially.

"For what?" Ah ha! I proved that my eyes had been closed as I wrenched one of them open in an attempt to see her. Once it focused, I could see her smooth skin glinting in the moonlight as it fell on her like some sort of contouring blanket. She looked lovely in the moonlight. Actually, all women looked lovely in the moonlight. The light of the moon wouldn't display imperfections like the light of the sun. However, the look on her face was such that I couldn't tell what she was thinking. I'd always thought that women had too much in their heads...they probably had an even harder time making sense of things than I did because of all the thoughts running through their mind. Of course, that was just my theory. I've never been a woman, so I can't say if they really have thousands of thoughts in their head at one time or not. Perhaps they're much more simple than men make them out to be.

"Bein' there for me. I would've been so...lost without your help through my illness. Ne'er been sick away from home." She smiled lightly at me, now that she saw one of my eyes open. Her smooth hand went around my waist as she kissed me gently on the lips. I think she realized how tired I really was. Well, I hope she realized how tired I really was. I was making quite the sacrifice for her...but I always did odd things when I was smitten by members of the opposite sex.

"Don' mention it." I liked it when people thanked me, even though I didn't like admitting that I liked it when people thanked me. There came a point where I just didn't want people to mention some kind deed I did. I was a pirate, after all, and I couldn't be expected to be nice to anyone. Still...a little recognition for a lot of work made it more worthwhile.

"Still tired?" I almost sensed a hint of something else behind her question...but my eye fell shut and I couldn't see anything anymore. Blast me being tired! Of course...I would get to the bottom of this eventually. Unless I forgot to make further inquiries.

"Mmmhmmm." I really didn't mean to sound so tired...but I honestly couldn't reply with anything more witty or intelligent than that, frankly. I assume she didn't say anything further...because soon I was back in my dream world, chasing after someone who thought I was someone else.

* * *

The air was an electric sort of blue. The sort of blue that generally precedes a rather nasty storm that would undoubtedly whip my various bangles and trinkets into my face...during hurricane-force winds, I'd actually been cut by the little bits of metal hanging down off a coin. Really quite an odd way to be cut, actually, because they certainly weren't sharp and pointy like the metal of something you'd generally expect to bite you...but, it had been a very windy day that'd happened. It was windy now, but weak breeze was just barely strong enough to blow my hair into my face. That was the only problem of not wearing it in the conventional ponytail...of course, I'd gotten used to seeing wisps of ebony brush across my vision and occasionally land in my eye...so this really was nothing to complain over. 

Off in the distance, a flute was bobbing in the water. Flutes were interesting little ships used to transport not too many goods over not so big spaces...quite common, in the Caribbean. But it was action in a bottle. The way they'd been trying to avoid us told me that they had some valuable cargo aboard there, indeed. Ripe for the plucking...

"We're comin' up on t' other ship, Cap'n." Anamaria was to my left, an excited glow in her dark eyes as she thought about the potential swag aboard such a lucrative looking merchant ship. That was really all that drove any respectable pirate: the love of money. Greed. We were a ship full of greedy men and women. That was why we'd given up on the conventionality of life at land...to satiate that greed. Or at least try to.

"Good." It was good. I wanted to get this over with before the storm started trying to bash the _Pearl_ into their ship. That would be dangerous for my crew, my bonny lass, and my ship...I didn't want to lose my ship again, to a place where I couldn't follow.

* * *

We were soon close enough to the other ship that we could do what we did best: steal all their gold and ravage any women aboard. Well...maybe not so much ravaging of women, because I really doubted there were any women at all on the other boat and that Anamaria would want to do anything with the men we'd find... "All hands on deck! Prepare to board!" Pretty standard orders, right before you crossed one ship to another...this would be very exciting. I felt as though I hadn't plundered a ship in nearly a year, even though it had only been two and a half months or so since the _Pearl_ had landed in Tortuga for repairs and such. 

Several specially designed planks soon connected the _Pearl_ to the flute. My crew did what they do best: they stormed over to the other ship without a moment of hesitation. I followed close behind them, and my bonny lass followed behind me. She looked rather terrified...but, then again, I'd looked terrified my first battle. Everyone is afraid of death (even I am, believe it or not). The more you see of death, the more you can disguise that fear, simple as that. As my crew started fighting the other crew, a young gentleman that was about my height decided that I was an easy mark and made his way over to me. Young lads generally have more confidence on the outside then they do on the inside, so I wasn't really all that concerned for my life as he started trying to cut my hand off. "Ye really think you 'ave a chance agains' Captain Jack Sparrow, son?" I tried not to sound too amused or too serious as I coldly contemplated his smiling visage. Too proud.

"I'm positive that I do, Captain. You've gotten sloppy in yer old age." At least he called me captain, eh? I would've completely lost my temper if he hadn't called me captain. As it was, I felt fury burning behind my eyes. He called me old. And sloppy. I wasn't either, honest, I wasn't.

Determined not to let my anger show completely as we started sparring, I asked, "And how would ye know that?" Logic during a fight is often a hard thing to address. Surely I'd overcome him with my superior wits and experience. He was a fairly good man with the sword...I actually had to think what his next move might be. I'd heard that in other countries, you didn't fight with other men until you understood exactly how they would react...that seemed rather crazy to me, because I was constantly surprised by how people would react to some of the things I'd said and done in my life. Like this man, for instance. I never would've thought he'd be able to nearly cut me across the chest...but he did. I barely moved back in time. If it hadn't been for the belt I wore across my chest, I probably would've been cut more deeply than I was for a greater distance. Blast him.

"I've heard tales since I was a lad abou' you, an' I'm nearly twenty-five." He laughed lightly as he slashed at me with his gleaming cutlass after kicking my hand to keep me from blocking. The youth needed to come down a few notches...even though that had been a very unexpected move.

His blue eyes widened with surprise, however, as I jumped out of the way. I could be rather acrobatic, if I wanted to. That was a mistake a lot of people made...I came across as a rather clumsy bumbling fool. Which was why I was such a good pirate. I did a lot of things people didn't expect. "Age becomes experience, son," I said with a smirk as I took advantage of his momentary hesitation to slice him across the chest. It wasn't a fatal wound...but it would hurt a lot.

"So it would seem," he gasped, dropping his sword to hug his chest. Poor lad...his face was actually contorted with pain. Ah well...I couldn't afford to care what happened to him. This ship was still up for grabs until I faced off with the other captain or he decided to give up.

* * *

I found the captain of the ship a few minutes later, after I worked my way past a few more members of his rather arrogant crew. It didn't make much sense, really, for them to be so arrogant. Unless, of course, they had some sort of secret weapon. I really doubted they did, but it did cross my mind as I glared at the other captain. He was a very ugly man. At least in my biased opinion. I could see Anamaria trying to get another look at him every once in a while as she dueled with a rapscallion about twice as heavy as she was. The man had classic good looks. He was a regular Adonis with his curly blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. A bloody young 'un, by the looks of it, with a more defined body than myself. Ugly. And taller than me. I wasn't jealous, of course. Everyone is born looking the way they look, unless some sort of disease, disaster, or another person mars their face. I found myself wanting to mar that perfect chin of his... 

"Well well well," the man drawled with a perfectly crisp French accent. I'd often heard that women were attracted to men with accents. This man-oh, he was a perfect gentleman, too, based on the way he was dressed up-was the epitome of the life I'd left behind when I'd turned scallywag. If I hadn't decided to become a pirate...I probably would've ended up being a merchant captain like him. Not nearly as arrogant, of course. "If it izn't Captain Jack Sparrow."

Why did he know who I was? Oh...right, I had that unmistakable look. No one else in the Caribbean could quite copy my look. And no male pirate was man enough to wear kohl so often, even though it did lessen the glare of the sun reflecting off the warm waters below us. A lot of staring towards the horizon meant that I saw a lot of sun, hence the tan skin. I smiled slightly, nodding as my sword danced in the darkening sky. It would soon rain. Actually, I was rather surprised it hadn't started raining yet. Perhaps Fate was on my side. It was always easier to bash whelps into submission in dry conditions, after all. Wet decks often were slippery. "Aye. Unfortunately, mate, I 'ave no idea whom I'm addressin'." I made my expressionlook like that was a crime against nature, or something.

"I suppoze that an introduction iz in order, then." He smiled and displayed perfectly straight teeth. Blast him and his good looks. He didn't have anything detracting from his overall virile visage. He bowed, nearly hitting me in the face with his feathered hat. He was several inches taller than me. I felt like a cockroach, for a brief moment. "I am Captain Leroy Dompeire." He almost looked like he wanted to shake my hand, for he reached out with a perfect hand that had obviously been used to strangle men before towards my hands, though they were gripping my cutlass tightly.

I glanced at him curiously, my gaze flicking from his hand to his brilliant blue eyes. He noticed my indecision (I really think he'd been planning on it) with the faintest flicker of acknowledgement behind those eyes that would definitely captivate even the most shrewish woman. I slowly took my right hand off my sword to shake when his hand quickly snapped back and pulled his cutlass from his scabbard.

I didn't even have enough time to get my right hand back on my cutlass when he started swinging an ornate weapon at me. One slash across the cheek before I could even blink. "You're very good," I said hoarsely, trying to disguise the sudden fear welling up inside me as he slashed at my shoulder and I saw crimson staining the once white shirt.

"Why, thank you, Captain. Zat is definitely high praise from you." He didn't even blink as he continued attacking me. I hadn't been this much on the defensive since I used Bootstrap Bill Turner as a sparring partner... Captain Leroy was definitely better with the sword than that insolent stick of a man that was Bootstrap's son.

I'd really been hoping to distract him, by talking. I at least wanted to get my right hand back on the cutlass's handle. This was undignified, fighting with only one hand as he drove me back towards presumably his cabin. Maybe this is why the whole crew had been so arrogant...this man could've potentially killed my whole crew by his onesies. "Aye," I agreed lamely, twisting around quickly to avoid having my head lopped off. I left myself open for another side attack...but I did manage to get both my hands properly on the handle. Perhaps now I could defend myself from this master swordsman. And perhaps some day I'd dress up as a woman to avoid capture. Hope seemed more difficult to keep holding on to than a drowning woman's hand because of her water-soaked skirts. Was this going to be the man who forced me to finally stop my piracy?

**

* * *

sunkist3208**: Ah...well, I thought I was signed up to get alerts when you updated. Apparently not. I'll have to read those chapters, eh?  
You are very right, Whitney. Gibbs is my voice of society. At least in the last chapter. Jack has screwy views because I'm a twenty-first century girl writing like I'm a seventeenth century pirate, and a man. Hard to do, really. I'm probably way off on his thinking...  
Thank you for the review!  
**Jack**: Glad you enjoyed it. There's lots of thoughts running through Jack's head all the time. If I had such a convoluted way of thinking, I think I'd be just as daft as he is. Mutton chops are those ugly things that Gibbs wears on his chin. Silly looking hairstyle, but it was popular. And some people still have mutton chops. And as for Gibbs attitude...well, that's what men thought back then. Women were really just puppets or ornaments and weren't allowed at sea...couldn't have jobs other than as governess, maid, seamstress, or laundress, really.  
**Daisy**: The new chappie jig is quite fun, isn't it? I'm sorry its been taking me so long to update. I feel all...blah. And apathetic, really. I wrote you something special, for your birthday, though. Tis crazy...an' I'll probably delete it tomorrow, because I am not a poet...but I'll post it in my LiveJournal or something.  
To answer your question...well, the crew doesn't like her because she's a woman, she's new to sailing, and she's distracting Jack from his greed. Women weren't generally allowed on boats, back then. They weren't really generally allowed to have opinions, either, but you know that already.  
And yes...I had Gibbs make that comment about Anamaria for your enjoyment. She does act like a man, though. And Jack is still completely obsessed with her, sad to say. Driving me up the wall, but it has given me an idea for the end of this little story. Because it is going to end...well, happy, I hope.  
Gibbs is a butthead, but he's being the voice of society. And you, apparently. No, just kidding. He's there for a reason, though. The first guy Jack battled really isn't there for a reason, in this chapter, but don't tell anyone.  
I lurve long reviews! Thank you so much! And...my calculus teacher (when he's at school) really does go off on a lot of tangents. And likes to tell us we're stupid.  
**CrazyPirateGirl**: Aye, seasickness bites. I've got worse plans in store for her, though. And...er...I can't say that, because Jack would shoot me for giving away the plotline. But thank you for being such a faithful reviewer! And for being honest, yet again. Obviously its a fight with swords, eh? But...pay special attention to what Jack isn't thinking about, and I'm fairly sure you'll be able to guess what happens in the next chapter. Sorry for the cliffhanger...but I can't put everything in this chapter or it would be far too long. And not being updated today. And now I'm rambling...thank you again! Since you were the first to review this chapter, you get a PotC soundtrack. Because it's right next to my mouse. 


	6. Chapter VI

Disclaimer: Still don't have the right to be typing this. 

AN (2/13): It is Single's Awareness Day tomorrow. Such a silly holiday, really. Invented by companies to make us spend money and feel guilty and alone...  
And Johnny didn't win at the BAFTA's. Bah.

**One More Day: Chapter 6**

"You obviously know more than meetz ze eye," Leroy commented, grunting slightly as I managed to kick him. I was right next to his cabin, backed into a corner because of my own stupidity. I felt like a trapped cat lashing out with any venom left inside me. It wouldn't be long now, until I'd lose. This man was too good. Too good looking...too talented...too superior to me. I felt like a fool for attacking his ship. This man...well, he could actually humble me. Isn't that amazing? What I wouldn't give to have Will's raw talent with the sword...

"Merci, Captain." His name really suited him. Leroy, when translated, means the king. Obviously he was the king of the sea. A compliment I hoped never to give someone again in my mind, if I managed to survive. At least I hadn't said it out loud.

He seemed amused by my French. Why? It didn't dawn on me that I probably sounded like a lot of men he'd killed thus far. I was obviously pretending to know how to speak French to get on his good side. What was it with French people, anyway? And why was that man shipping silks to England? He obviously wasn't a very loyal Frenchman. "Not enough, though. I'm sorry, Captain Sparrow...you'll 'ave to meet your maker tonight."

Bloody cocky captain! That stupid whelp planned on killing me! Didn't I get a say in any of this? Frowning, I lashed out at him with my cutlass. What did I care about good form? All I wanted to was to get away...get out of this corner before some boogeyman swallowed me up to the pits of Hell. There was no way I'd ever make it to what the religious people called Heaven...I swore, drank, lusted after women, and had broken just about every commandment at least five times. I was a doomed soul, for sure.

"Cap'n!" That was definitely Anamaria's voice I could hear above the rushing of the blood in my ears. Great, just great...I was being distracted by her. Fortunately for me, however, Leroy's attack lessened as he paused to investigate the sound of the obviously feminine voice.

"Wha'?" I chanced to look over at her, for a brief instance. She seemed perfectly fine; she'd moved onto the next foe aboard the ship. I turned my attention back to the tall, lithe captain. "Busy!" Obviously. I just wanted to make sure she'd realize why I was ignoring her.

Leroy glanced back at me, an arched eyebrow as he undoubtedly thought about what Ana would look like with her clothes off...blast, this gentleman had a rather naughty mind, didn't he? I'd never...well, recently, at least...pictured Ana without any clothes on at all. She wasn't the type looking for love, after all. Bloody idiot. "Fine specimen of a woman," he commented with a lecherous smile. "I believe I shall get to know 'er better, once you are deed."

"Well, Captain, I 'ave no intention of ever being 'deed', thank you very much." That accent was getting very annoying. I almost wanted to swear at him in French...or prove that I could speak French as well as he could. Unfortunately, my concentration waned as I heard Anamaria again. Leroy managed to slash me across the other cheek. I'd have some interesting scars, if I survived.

"Cap'n!" she shouted again, drawing his attention once more. This time she was pointing towards the bridge as she blocked blows from the bloke trying to bludgeon her with a very dull sword.

I frowned and glanced up to the bridge. It was best to do what she wanted me to do before she got angry. I didn't want to make her angry, because when she was angry, she enjoyed slapping me really hard. Of course, when I saw what she'd been trying to inform me of...goodness, rage filled my whole body. My bonny lass was busy trying to keep a man from raping her, in broad daylight. That bloody fink! How dare he lay a hand on her! "Luv!" I'm sure that my eyes resembled charcoal about to erupt into flames as I glanced back at Leroy. My life didn't matter, anymore. I had to save her.

Leroy cringed as I drove my cutlass into his fine clothes just beneath his rib cage and out the other end. He'd been skewered by my blade...it was amazing what I could do, when I was angry. Good thing I wasn't angry very often, eh? I pulled the blade out of his staggering body before it could hit the decks of his ship and rushed up the stairs to the bridge, ignoring the blood on the sword and deck completely. Apparently I'd just made myself king of the sea, eh?

"Let her go!" I shouted as the man with wiry brown hair and lurpy arms and legs tried forcing her rather short skirts up. How could I have been so selfish that I'd forgotten completely about her? Obviously she didn't quite know how to handle herself yet, with a sword, because I was always subconsciously gentle with her. I didn't want to accidentally scar her beautiful face, after all. Acne had done that enough already. Of course, acne scars were much better than smallpox scars. I'd seen some women with so many scars on their faces that no amount of make up would ever properly hide it...those were the ones I pitied. And the ones Gibbs usually went for.

"Oh...isn' tha' touchin'?" The man replied, a disgusting glaze to his hazel eyes as he kissed her soft cheek forcefully. Thankfully, I had arrived in enough time...he hadn't done the dreadful deed, yet. "The father's 'ere t' protect the girl's virtue!"

"Well, mate, tha's where you're dead wrong," I said, pulling out my pistol and cocking it. "I'm not 'er father." Without so much as a warning, I pulled the trigger. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him fall back and hit the deck moments after flecks of his brain did. Well, I didn't have to worry about him anymore, eh? I rushed to her side and gently touched her hand. "Are you all right?" She looked torn between terror and gratitude. The man had cut her up a bit, with his sword. He'd given her a very deep cut on the side...the blood...oh, goodness, seeing her blood seep out was enough to make me dizzy. I never could handle seeing people I admired and loved in pain.

"I'm...shaken up," she replied honestly. A large grin broke across her divine face. "You rescued me," she said softly, slowly sitting up. Obviously I had been the knight in white armor girls dream about, eh? Disgusting...yet, I don't think I could've forgiven myself if she'd been marred that way. It would have been completely my fault, after all. Why did I think it was a good idea to bring her aboard the _Pearl_?

"Don' move," I said with a slight frown. "Ye need t' see a surgeon." Well, either that, or I could bandage those nasty gashes. Of course, I was having a hard time seeing anything properly because of her blood on the deck of this stupid flute...I couldn't concentrate long enough to bandage her if I wanted to. My own cuts and gashes and wounds were completely forgotten as I glanced down at her anxiously. Why did she have to be hurt? And...why had I forgotten to keep an eye on her?

"Don't be silly," she chided gently, reaching over to trace the cut on my cheek. Her lower lip was trembling slightly...I couldn't decide if that was because she was getting over her intense fear of being raped or if she was cold or if she was about to cry. Women...well, they're much more complicated than anything else I've ever come across in my lucrative career. Someone needed to write a book or something explaining how to interpret their moods. "You're hurt worse than I am."

I frowned slightly and shook my head. "Tis only a scratch, luv. Now, don' you be all noble on me an' claim you're not in a great deal o' pain...I've been sliced an' nearly killed for many moons now, an' I know how t' handle pain. Whereas you...well, you've probably ne'er been hurt before."

"Well, once I cut my finger with a knife," she replied with a teasing sort of smile. How could she be so calm and so on edge all at the same time? "Of course, Mom had me get stitches. And I had anesthesia, so I couldn't feel a thing. I don't think I'll be so lucky now. Do I have t' get drunk, in order for people to operate on me?"

Well, anesthesia sounded very nice indeed. Why didn't we have such a marvelous invention? Rum...yes, it was used to dull the pain. But it only dulled it. I hated going to the surgeon because it was often more painful for them to fix me up than it was for me to get broken in the first place. Funny how the world works, isn't it? "Well, you can," I replied with a slight grin as I gently picked her up. "But I ne'er do. I usually let meself go unconscious."

She laughed softly and shook her head, wincing. "Doesn' surprise me," she gasped softly. Was I hurting her, in my arms? Why was it suddenly so quiet? Had it always been this quiet? Was I imagining things? I really didn't know. All I wanted to do was get her to safety. The fact that I'd brutally murdered two men hadn't even registered in my mind.

"Cap'n?" Anamaria asked lightly. The fighting was over now that the captain was dead. The rest were just a bunch of cowards. I could almost detect fear in Anamaria's voice. I never reacted so harshly to people. Never ever. I killed people only if I had to. Bloodshed...well, it lead to all sorts of problems later in life, so I generally tried avoiding it.

Sighing, I turned to face the woman. My crew were all staring up at me, as though I had some sort of embarrassing problem. Perhaps my face had turned into stone or something...I really didn't know why they were so fascinated. "Anamaria...I'm goin' t' put you in charge of divvying up the treasure." I glanced down at the lass in my arms. She seemed to be having a hard time staying awake, suddenly. Definitely in shock. "She needs medical attention."

The crew all nodded to themselves. Well, that would explain my rash actions, wouldn't it? Goodness, I had fallen for this angel in my arms, hadn't I? It was disgusting. I was a pirate, a scallywag, and I didn't even want to see what sort of swag was in the hold of this flute? I really needed (but didn't want to) straighten out my priorities.

* * *

"I'm finished, Cap'n," Pork said as he stepped out of my cabin. I'd been pacing the length of the _Pearl_ for what seemed like an eternity, after I'd bandaged my cuts myself. Pork wasn't the surgeon's actual name...no, his real name was Paul. I didn't know why we called him Pork, for he was quite tall and lurpy...but Pork was his nickname. Perhaps it was from some sort of childish game... 

"She all righ'?" I asked, hoping my worry wasn't too obvious. I didn't want the crew to know how obsessed I was with her well being. That would be...well, not pirate-y. Even though I felt as though my heart would burst if she didn't get better, I knew I couldn't handle another mutiny. Being on that island...well, it was amazing I'd left that island with the little amount of sanity I still have.

"She's fine," Pork replied with a slight smile as he glanced back to my closed cabin door. Not many people had been inside my cabin...I only made exceptions for lovers, surgeons, and Gibbs. Anamaria...well, she could come in, I suppose, if she wanted to, but she never had wanted to because she thought the crew would jump to conclusions about our relationship.

"Are you sure?" I didn't want to sound like I didn't trust him...but I'd just spent an hour or so with visions of the worst possible scenario dancing through my mind. I was prepared to take bad news. Not good news. Surgeons always looked solemn, too, and I thought maybe he was just saying that so that I'd not worry and be completely surprised when I woke up next to a dead body in the morning. Was he lying?

Pork laughed and nodded. Good...he didn't look like those scary surgeons anymore. "I'm absolutely positive, Cap'n Sparrow. The ordeal din' e'en hurt the baby." He smiled slightly and bowed before I had the chance to react to that. "She wants to see you." With that, he left my side to go and tend to other people's wounds. My own...well, they would come last, if I bothered to tell him I was in pain. Usually I didn't bother because it didn't matter.

"Baby?" I repeated numbly, not even really noticing that he'd left. Was that what she'd been trying to tell me about? A baby? Maybe the man was just daft...yes, Pork was just daft. I couldn't be a father! I just couldn't... Not again. It was bad enough to find your offspring when they were a year or two old...but I'd have a pregnant woman aboard the _Pearl_. That was...very bad. Very bad indeed. She'd already been injured once because of my forgetfulness...what if I forgot she was pregnant a week or so down the road? What if we were attacked by a Naval ship? I couldn't have a pregnant woman aboard the _Pearl_...no. That was just...just...pregnant? How could she be pregnant? She really was almost a child herself.

I frowned and licked my lips nervously as I walked towards my cabin door. It seemed to be laughing at me. Laughing at me for believing she knew anything about not getting pregnant...or that she'd want to abort the child. Of course, I never would suggest such a thing...abortions were very dangerous. But neither of us were ready to be parents!

**

* * *

sunkist3208**: Thank you, Whitney! He is evil. But not really...he would be considered a good guy, in the grand scheme of things, because he used to defeat pirates. He was a bit of a lecherous fool, though. But he's dead now, an' you're not supposed to speak ill of the dead. I didn't intend on reminding people of Tybalt with Leroy...when we did Romeo an' Juliet, our Tybalt was a girl...random factoid, there.  
**Daisy**: You are a lazy bum. :) But a lovable lazy bum. An' I'm excited to read your next fanfic, even if it is dark...this chapter...well, I suppose its so vivid because it was so close to SAD that I wrote the first part.  
Poetry an' I don't agree. I'm only going to write more poetry if I have to. However, I am glad you liked it. An'...yay! You made State Choir! I told ya you could do it.  
Maybe I should...maybe I should. It'd be evil of me, however, to have it all a dream. I hate it when things end that way.  
I think you're just jealous. And it took a lot of persuasion, on Jack's part. I should let ya read it. Or not...you'd get even more jealous. So, therefore, I'm just going to have to leave you in the dark about the whole Jack/Ana thing.  
I"m sure Frank would be very proud to know you'd made it, too. It is a pity you can't tell him...  
An'...obviously Jack survives, since this story is from his point of view. I had to end it right there because it was getting too long. Thank you for such a long and detailed review!  
**Jack**: Rapscallion is a good word, isn't it? I like using interesting words and phrases...tis great fun. I don't think that his Bonny Lass wears corsets...I dunno. I'll have to ask Jack.  
As for the men part...amazing how I can have Jack bash on other men, eh? Odd...if you think about it. Maybe he's just jealous.  
And I'm glad you like my lookup...I'm learning CSS in Tech class.  
**Johnny'shumiliatedgrape**: I like the new username. In my Lit class, we write essays and stuff and read and critique each others..our teacher has us write under pseudonyms. I usually pick characters from Johnny's movies...and sometimes I use his pseudonym, Oprah Noodlemantra. Some random info about me, I guess...I'm feeling very random at the moment.  
I like bashing the French, like any good American. No...just kidding. I happen to know a few French words, and so I often make characters French because I can kind of fake their accent. And...well, I couldn't kill off Jack. He's my idol. And very attractive. I just like putting him through pain...I've got sadistic tendencies, I suppose. I wish I'd updated when I planned on updating... (Valentine's day) but I had a lot of homework. Stupid school.  
Thanks for leaving a review! Since you were first...well, you get a lovely jolly roger! 


	7. Chapter VII

Disclaimer: I do not have permission to be writing this. 

AN (2/26): Good luck tomorrow, Johnny!

**One More Day: Chapter 7**

I was stalling. And I realized I was stalling, standing just outside my cabin door. Wouldn't you stall, if you'd just learned something so profound as this? I was going to be a father, again. I wasn't ready. Now, I know that sounds a bit odd...I mean, I am forty years old, and I have had at least two children already...but this would be different. I would actually see her pregnant...I would actually watch her grow. The ramifications for this were staggering. What would I do with a baby on board the _Pearl_? I couldn't have it cry and alert my enemies as to where I was...I couldn't be a father! People would threaten my child in an attempt to get to me. And it would work. Why oh why couldn't I have been more careful? I should've just left her in the future...

Sighing, I realized that I needed to visit her. She had almost been raped, after all...the thought of that man forcing himself into her...well, it still made my blood boil. Love was rearing its ugly head in every aspect of my life. I hadn't even gone below deck to see what sort of swag Anamaria had decided we should take...I'd been too busy pacing. Much unlike myself...I hate showing people that I'm worried about something because then they can see my weaknesses. I don't like showing my weaknesses because someone will inevitably use them against me and I'll have to watch the _Pearl_ sail away under the command of someone else again. I know I can't handle that sort of complete rejection again; that's why I never give up the bearings and never let anyone look at the map, if I happen to be using one. I had been naive before...you wouldn't catch me like that again. Ever again. Even though I was being consumed by the curse known as love. That horrible fish had swallowed me whole...and I really didn't want to change that.

Inhaling, I opened the door and stepped in. At least the familiarity of my room would be a bit of a comfort, eh? They always say you feel most at ease in smells you've been around for years. Of course, the familiar smell of rum and hard work wasn't really that comforting. They also say that you can't smell yourself. Which I suppose is true. I just wonder who these mysterious 'they' people are. I smiled slightly at her. She was on the bed, staring over at me as though I were the most interesting and frightening person in the world. "Hello," I said, masking my real terror as I 'confidently' swaggered over to the side of my bed. I had unique tastes in my room. I suppose that's partly because I was raised in privilege and didn't really like sleeping on a bed with no sheets or something. I'm not sure why I had such finely woven green blankets on my bed on top of said sheets because it really just gave me a lot more laundry to get done by washerwomen at whatever port (long ago I'd learned not to care about the fact they were only washed once or so a month) we were visiting. That meant it cost me more money. First I had to pay for the sheets (and they'd been a pretty penny) and now I had to pay for their upkeep. Not that I minded. It did give my cabin a look of elegance, I suppose.

There was an oak desk on the far wall where I kept all the odd maps I'd been collecting over the years. Now, I had a simple sort of elegance in my room. When I'd first stepped in here after Barbossa'd been living in this sheltered place like a cockroach...well, it was an ornate sort of elegance complete with his own table. Why didn't he dine with the crew? Well, I thought it was because he wanted people to know how wealthy being a pirate had made him. Sure, I had lots of money...but all that was in my cabin was a chair (that was getting rather dilapidated), a bed with sheets and green blankets, and the desk with its own little chair. Simple and all I needed because the only time I was in my cabin was when I was sleeping or working on trying to find out where some insane pirate stashed their treasure. I thought the whole idea of burying treasure was ludicrous. Of course, that was just me. Shouldn't the great pirates have spent their treasure after divvying it up equally among their crew? Or was that too honorable a thing to do?

"Hi," she responded with a tired sort of smile. Was that because she was still in pain from her wounds? Or was she just tired of people looking at her as though she were marked because of her pregnancy? How long had she been trying to tell me? Had she really been trying to tell me? "You look awful, Jack."

I chuckled and nodded. Trust her to lighten the mood by shifting attention to me. "Well, luv, I feel fine. Tha's all that matters, eh?" She nodded slightly and I leaned over and kissed her gently on the cheek. Well, I kissed her there more for me than for her. I was really in a lot of pain, especially since she almost mentioned it. A kiss on the cheek would keep me from trying anything else to vent my frustrations about the world. "How d' ye feel?"

"Pork told you, didn't he?" she responded, dodging my question entirely. Oh well. At least we wouldn't have to dance around the subject. "How do you feel about it?"

Why did she always ask me questions like that? How would you feel if suddenly your whole way of life was threatened? Honestly, I loved her enough to actually give up piracy for the sake of the baby. Of course, I didn't want to admit that to myself or to her. Pirates weren't supposed to want children. It was far too dangerous for a child to be aboard a boat, anyway. Toddlers need constant attention. I could almost picture a child falling off the railing of the _Pearl_ to be lost to Davy Jones' Locker. Of course I was apprehensive about the future! But that wasn't what she was asking me. Stupid twenty-first century views. Women weren't supposed to ask men how they felt in my time. Men were supposed to tell women how to feel. "A bi' shocked," I answered truthfully. "Bu' tha's really to be expected, isn' it? Not everyday ye learn the woman you love is bearing your child."

"Aye," she agreed, the faintest glimmer of relief visible in her absolutely gorgeous eyes. I could stare at those eyes for hours on end if I didn't have other duties to attend to. In fact, sometimes I almost felt like spouting poetry at her about her absolutely perfect eyes. Good thing I curbed that impulse. I'm a horrible poet, really. She smiled and gently touched my cheek below where it had been cut. "Thank you for being so understanding, Jack. I really wanted to tell you...but...well, I was afraid you didn't want children."

"I undoubtedly would've found out in a month or so," I commented with a teasing sort of smile. "And as for me not wanting children...pure lunacy, m'dear. Wha' man doesn't want a child t' carry on his name, then? It'd be a pity if the Sparrows died out 'cause o' me." I chuckled and pulled back a bit as her soft fingers neared the screaming break in my flesh that stupid cur Leroy had given me. Yeah...it hurt a lot. I couldn't block out pain as well when I was feeling rather emotionally charged. Funny how the mind can't really focus on doing two things at once, isn't it?

"Well, you are the most infamous pirate captain in the Caribbean," she pointed out. "It seems reasonable for me to assume tha' you don't want children because they'd put a hamper on your piracy." She smiled weakly. "I wouldn't want to do that, Jack. You can leave me at the next port an' I'll understand." Perhaps she misinterpreted my involuntary pull back from her hand.

Now, where in the world had she gotten that idea? I'd never do such a horrible thing! Abandoning my wife and future child? That was just...too evil. I'd been described as a gentleman pirate, after all, and a gentleman wouldn't do that with a woman he loved. No...he'd buy her a home and visit her on the side, if he was already married, or would marry the lass. I was tempted to marry her...but that was also incredibly frightening. If I was married...well, I couldn't visit other women, for one (of course, I didn't want to now, but that could change)and I wouldn't be able to consider myself truly free. Well, maybe I just had cold feet about the whole idea. Why should I bother giving her my last name? It really wasn't even my last name, after all. "I wouldn't do something like that," I said, surprising even myself with how forceful I'd been. Did I really feel that strongly? Well, apparently. Disgusting what love can do, isn't it?

"Oh," she replied, looking a lot less disappointed. "What are we going to do, then?" she asked a moment later after a very pregnant pause. This was hard...I hated thinking more than a week into the future. Why? Well, I was threatened with death so often sometimes I couldn't count on having more than a week's worth of time left on this round planet. Lame excuse, but it was all I had. The future terrified me...I was either going to meet a sticky end because of a gun or break my neck while attempting the hempen jig. There really were no other possibilities...at least that I wanted to think about. I could always succumb to some sort of illness (or, even worse, old age) in the near to far future. That wouldn't be a dignified way for a pirate to go.

I sighed softly and shrugged my shoulders. "I really don't know." I hated not having a clue about the future. Why? Because I'm supposed to be able to anticipate what's going to happen so I can make daring escapes and whatnot. "I suppose we jus' wait for the baby t' come."

"Duh." She rolled those beautiful eyes of hers at me and laughed slightly. "I'm not going to have an abortion. That's just cruel." Something about the way her voice danced in those words was terrifying me. Why? She sounded terrified herself. Was it because she had never had a baby before? Or was it because she thought I would still blow up at her? "I'm going to be a mother in about six and a half months, Jack." There it was again! That terror...

"It'll be all righ', luv," I said as I gently took her hand in mine. "I promise not t' let anythin' happen t' ye. In six an' a half months, I'll be the proud father of a child an' you'll be the proud mother an' maybe I'll give up piracy so we can live on land t'gether. A ship is no place for a baby."

"Really?" she asked. There almost seemed to be tears forming in her eyes. Was she sad at the thought of leaving the _Pearl_? Was she so overcome with joy that those were tears of happiness? Was she just being moody? Boy...this would be a unique experience. These six and a half months would not go by fast enough.

"Really," I confirmed. Did I want to? Not particularly. But I couldn't stand living without that bonny lass of mine. I'd go absolutely insane. "We'll find a nice place a month or so before the baby's born. Until then...well, ye should probably be careful around the ship. Wouldn' want somethin' t' happen t' ye."

"Okay," she replied meekly. Was I terrifying her? Goodness, this was all lunacy. I had no idea how to read her anymore. Not that I'd been very good at it before, mind you.

"Okay?" I'd never heard her say that word before. Odd, really, when you considered the fact she'd been with me for over two months now. "What does okay mean?" I asked after she stared at me blankly after nodding.

"All right." She looked rather perturbed that she'd said that word. "Look, Jack, you're not supposed t' know that phrase. It developed in one of the presidential elections in the mid 1800's. So...don't use it. I've been trying not to. Who knows how it would change the future?"

"Aye, well...luv, why would it change anythin' bu' this future? Clearly you din' come from the same future as is goin' t' be the case in a few hundred years from now. Alternate somethin' or other. If your future came from my past...well, it wouldn' work because I wasn' in the history books an' only exist in your time because of that blasted movie. I could say okay an' teach me crew t' say it an' it wouldn't matter."

"It could matter, Jack," she replied with a slight frown. "You never know if alternate realities have an effect on others. There could potentially be millions of universes where you exist and where you exist only in the movie and where you are just some sort of respectable guy that has a wife and five children already. It's impossible to know how you knowing the phrases and such from my century and reality will change your reality."

"I don' think it would," I replied with a slight smile. Wow...she contemplated things to death like I did! No wonder I found it so easy to be smitten with her! "Bu' I shall refrain from sayin' okay. Sound more intelligent sayin' all right, anyway."

"Yes," she agreed with an impish little smile dancing with the corners of her shapely mouth. She had very kissable lips, if I do say so myself. I would have a lot of experience kissing said lips, after all. Amazing I'd known her for so long and still hadn't gotten bored with her. She was unlike any woman I'd ever had before. The nymph dancing across her eyes abruptly turned into a tree, however, when she touched my cheek and I winced. Blasted Leroy! "Jack...you really should let Pork tend to those." She pointed at the mostly dry spots of blood on my shirt. It was amazing how I could get people forget that I was in pain, eh?

"I should," I agreed, glancing down myself. I really did look horrible. Ah well...more scars to talk about when I was forced to retire in a few months. No one would forget Captain Jack Sparrow, if I had anything to say about it. "An' I will. You get some rest, though, luv." Now I was ordering her about again...bah. What was my problem? She wasn't suddenly fragile, now that I knew she was with child. She wasn't about to break.

"I will," she replied with a smile, gently bringing my hand up to her lips and kissing away some of the smaller cuts. It was reminiscent of how she'd saved my life that dreadful day I'd tried to annihilate myself because I didn't belong in the future. Of course, it wasn't a voluntary act...what if something similar happened to her? She could have a double...well, no, she would've gone terribly cold already. Obviously she was meant to be in my time period and my universe.

**

* * *

CrazyPirateGirl**: I'm just glad you've gotten use of your computer back. It'd suck, being grounded from the computer for so long. Glad to see you back! Thank you for the constant support!  
Lady Saxon: They're starting filming for PotC 2 in March. If they can get over the squabbles about cannibals and Keith Richards. Long story. Anyway, they should be starting filming soon. And it should be out in theaters in July of 2006. Six months after that, the rumor is that the third one will hit theaters. Rather spiffy, knowing that they'll be coming out so soon...it'll make up for this torture of waiting now. And thanks for the review, Kess.  
**sunkist3208**: You think the whole not having a name thing is bothering you? Think about how I feel...I have to try and distinguish between which females I'm referring to, a lot of the time. But she can't have a name. She is pregnant, but she isn't Sheila. Sorry. She's representative of all the crazy obsessed Pirates fans...which is why she can't have a name.  
Yes, our Tybalt was a girl. A rather ditzy girl who also played Glinda in the Wizard of Oz. Romeo an' Juliet is quite interesting...I like Macbeth better, though. Because it has the Weird Sisters. I wanna be one of the Weird Sisters when I grow up. After I finish being a hobo.  
Thanks for the cookie! And the review, too.  
**Jack**: Of course cats have venom...have you ever been scratched by one and the scratch got all puffy and red-like? No...that was an abstract analogy that didn't really work, apparently.  
You don't have to pay for Really, you don't. If you want to, you can pay to have enhanced statistics...but the overall thing is free. Otherwise I wouldn't be writing because I'm a poor person.  
The name Pork was completely random. Well, not really. We had pork that night for dinner.  
And of course I leave little hints in my chapters...Jack sometimes just doesn't notice 'em, though. Glad you enjoyed the last one and I hope you like this rather boring one...it'll get better in a hurry, trust me.  
**DarkAngelPearl:** Well, apparently Jack's going to retire. I don't think that will really happen...but those are his plans. Keep that in mind as you read the next chapter I'm just about to start working on. I'm sorry it took me so long...school has been absolutely horrible, lately, and I've had a bajillion things to do lately...but thanks for the review!  
**Johnny'shumiliatedgrape**: I agree with the French sometimes, too. Their cheese is rather tastey. Well, some of it. Not all of it. Some of it smells and tastes like barf.  
Actually, it wouldn't be J'amore Johnny. That's saying I love (using the Italian word for love) Johnny. It'd be J'aime Johnny. I took three years of French. I can't remember much more than Tu es un couchon (you are a pig) and J'aime Johnny. And maybe J'ai faim. (I have hunger.)  
Yeah...not having a name for the lass is getting to be a hassle. I can see why you thought Pork was calling her a baby. And don't worry...I've got something rather unexpected in store with Jack's bonny lass and the baby...an' it will involve them meeting up with a newly married Will and Elizabeth. Which should be interesting...depending on my mood.  
Single Awareness Day is silly...but I got fudge from my mum, so it was all good. -nods-  
It might be your job to leave reviews, but a lot of people don't...so, thank you again! It makes me all happy and fuzzy and yeah inside. I wouldn't keep writing if I didn't keep getting encouragement...my self esteem isn't so grand. Thanks for the uber long and very snazzy and entertaining review!  
**orcachick2005**: She does know she's pregnant. She was trying to tell him earlier...silly goose was afraid to tell Jack. Of course, he is a pirate and pirates probably didn't like knowing when they were going to be fathers...  
Yeah...it was rather gross, wasn't it, my description of brains...and I said he's usually not violent. Of course, he was provoked in my story and he was provoked in your story...so, in both cases, his violence is 'excusable'. And you'd better update your story soon. Or I'll eat you up. Or stop updating myself in protest. And I should read about Sweeney Todd...the song is very interesting and rather similar to Jack. Especially since Jack is an obsessive neat freak in my stories. Just an added quirk...he probably is rather messy. And I think it would be smashing if you killed everyone at the end of your story.  
As for the ending...generally, when I start a new story, I have no idea what's going to happen. Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don't. And sometimes I just want to include one particular scene so I write a whole bunch of fluff leading up to it. Anyway, that's why I've abandoned Death of a Blacksmith...I don't know what I want to say. Sure, Will will kill himself...but so? Jack's already long gone and is just a figment of Will's memory...very depressing indeed. But you need to keep writing...when you write, you get a clearer idea...sometimes I drop hints for ideas I don't consider until way later. Not very often. But sometimes.  
Of course Jack had to kill Leroy. I couldn't bear to kill that infamous captain off...I've done it twice already and it was very depressing. Besides, there would be a mob of angry fanfic readers at my door if I killed him off. Better...er...well, you know what's going to happen. I explained it all. Of course, she had the name of Elise in that one RP...  
Thanks for the song and the review! You get a loverly unicorn plushie that plays "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" in a high-pitched squealy sort of way. You are such an inspiration to me! 


	8. Chapter VIII

Disclaimer: I do not have permission to be writing this. Or to strangle the Academy for not choosing Johnny again. Of course, I'm sure Jamie Foxx did a remarkable job...and at least it wasn't Leonardo Dicaprio, eh? 

AN (2/27)- Tough luck, Johnny! Better luck next time...you did look really sexy with your moustache and goatee for filming next month. And you are afraid of public speaking...so, no worries.  
Good job, Jan A.P. Kaczmarek for getting the Oscar for Music score! Your music rocks! I suggest anyone who hasn't seen Finding Neverland should go and see it. Fantastic.  
And I really didn't think I'd end up updating today...consider it a present. I'm going to be in St. George Utah from Thursday to Saturday...so this will probably be the only update this week. Unless I'm really in the mood to write tomorrow.

**One More Day: Chapter Eight**

This was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. We were sitting in a carriage, actually, making our way to Port Royal, Jamaica. Now, you might wonder why I would ever be in a carriage. The answer is quite simple. I didn't want to get caught by Commodore Norrington with a pregnant woman on board. Why? Well, she'd see me die and would have to dance the hempen jig herself, after she had her baby. Like what happened with Anne Bonney and Mary Reade, not too long ago. The pirating world had lost some bright stars when my old mentor, Calico Jack, decided to come out of retirement. He'd let his crew get completely drunk one night near a port. Only Anne and Mary had been able to see straight...and the redcoats had attacked. Calico Jack had been hung...

I was busy staring out the small window. Well, it wasn't a window like they had in the future. No...there was no glass. It was just a hole in the carriage frame with curtains you could pull across for some measure of privacy. I was glancing out of the small slit between the carriage and the disgusting red drapes. What was I looking at? Well, the foliage of Jamaica. I'd docked the _Pearl_ in Kingston not too long ago so we could travel by land to Port Royal. It was about a day's journey to that sanctuary of all that was proper and prim from Kingston...a day that had gone by too fast and too slow, all at the same time. How did people stand going by carriage anywhere? It was so much faster in a ship.

I sighed as I saw the distinctive layout of Port Royal ahead of us. This would not be fun. Not at all. Not only was I visiting a city I detested above all others (well, actually, it had been quite like Tortuga until Norrington had shown up almost eleven years ago. Now it was avoided by wise criminals like the deceased bodies of those who'd succumbed to the plague were avoided), I was going to be asking some friends for help. I was a fiercely independent man...I hated asking anyone for help. In fact, two weeks ago when I'd smashed my fingers under the longboat, I never did ask anyone for help setting the fingers. Instead, Pork had noticed me favoring that hand the day after and had insisted on setting them. Not only were my fingers broken...no, my wrist was too. Thankfully, it hadn't been a compound fracture. Many pirates (or farmers, for that matter) who ended up getting a compound fracture ended up losing the limb. I couldn't be an infamous pirate without a hand. Of course, I also couldn't be an infamous pirate with only one hand. My right hand was in a sling. It was embarrassing. But that wasn't why we were here.

"Jack," she muttered softly, putting a hand on my knee. "Relax." I turned away from the window and glanced at her. She looked absolutely radiant, sitting next to me on the springboard. Riding in this carriage had to be uncomfortable for her. It really didn't surprise me that she asked to stop to empty her bladder so often...all that jolting...boy, I was glad I wasn't a woman. However, she did look beautiful. Her slightly thin face had filled out quite perfectly, through the course of her pregnancy. I even thought that her large protruding belly was rather beautiful. Everything about her was perfect...well, not really. If everything about her was perfect, we wouldn't be here. She'd been having contractions. Horrible contractions. In fact, the midwife I took her to see four days ago in Tortuga had warned me she might give birth at any moment. Which wasn't good...she was only eight months along. Now, I know that babies born prematurely in the future can survive...but infant mortality for babies born at the right time was so staggering I wanted to take no chances. The midwife had suggested that I find her a relaxing place where she could spend the rest of her pregnancy in bed...and...so...the first thing that had come to my mind was Port Royal. I'm sure she would've been able to stay in bed in my cabin...but I'd go nuts having her there and not making her participate in strenuous activity. At least in Port Royal, I would be uncomfortable in someone else's home and would be less likely to do that sort of thing. Besides...the crew did deserve a bit of a vacation. Gibbs and Anamaria had joint control of the _Pearl_ until I returned after the baby was a month old or so. The sacrifice didn't seem too horrible, at the moment...I was worried about her, actually. No time to think about the _Pearl_.

I sighed slightly and put my good hand on top of her's. "How can I relax?" I was nearing the lion's den, so to speak. What if Norrington found me? I hadn't had enough time to get into my disguise or whatever because I hadn't liked the way the tavern keeper in Kingston had looked at her advanced state... Well, I can afford to be jealous once in a while, can't I?

"Well, you could stop looking out the window every two minutes, for one." She smiled slightly and I thought my heart would melt. I was doing this all for her, after all. Amazing what sort of odd things love can make you do, isn't it? "Will and Elizabeth will probably not mind at all," she added reassuringly.

"I don't like it." Did it really matter what I thought? No. This was for her. I just had to keep reminding myself that. Going to Will and Elizabeth Turner's home...well...for help? It was disgusting. I was disgusted that my mind had turned to them first. They were my closest friends, though, that didn't swear or cheat or lie or try to stab you in the back (as far as I knew) that had a house. They'd been married for nearly two years now. I'd really thought they'd never be married. It had been a very nice wedding with lots of champagne. I got the impression that Governor Swann felt like he was settling for his daughter...but the couple had obviously been in love. Norrington...well, that man had been the most disappointed and jealous man I've probably ever had the pleasure of seeing. Of course, no one realized I'd been there. I was rather good at disguising myself, if I had to. And, in that case, I'd had to. Norrington's reward on my head was now up to the staggering sum of 394 doubloons. I don't know why he chose such a random number...but it went up after the wedding. Norrington seemed to be throwing himself into his work, even though he was married as well. To my niece, actually, but that's a story I'd rather not go into.

"Don't like what?" she asked, clearly curious. I said a lot of ambiguous things, remember? " Begging for help?" My silence was enough of an answer, I guess, because then she added, "Jack, you know and I know that I can't handle it anymore."

Well, at least we were touching on the important issues, eh? "Tha's what I don't like. How can such a small thing be so much trouble?" Obviously I was referring to the baby. What else could it be that was being so inconvenient? If the child weren't as stubborn as I was, we wouldn't be in this predicament. Couldn't I have a normal child?

"Babies have a way of trying to annoy people," she replied with a tired sigh, her free hand resting lightly on her rather large belly. She had been miserable for the past few months and then the early contractions had started...I'll never forget how afraid she'd been when she'd woken me up five nights ago. Poor lass really needed a mother figure or something. I obviously couldn't tell her what to expect during the birth of our child. I'd never gone through it. I'd never even seen a woman give birth. I'd heard about it, yes, but I'd never seen it. I felt so...inadequate. She'd had swollen ankles for the past two months. It was hard for her to walk around and she had to use the bathroom all the time. Obviously miserable. And I couldn't do anything to help her other than compliment her and offer her encouragement and foot massages.

I was silent for a while. What was I supposed to say to that? If I agreed, she might start crying or something. Her emotions were frazzled. Was it like this with every baby? If so...well, I was fairly tempted to try some contraceptive techniques after she recovered from the birth of our child. You only need one kid, right? More than that gets to be a bit annoying and difficult.

Frowning, I looked out the window again. My doom was drawing ever nearer as the horses slowly plodded their way to the city. Why had we been running so far behind schedule? I'd only had enough time to slowly weave the trinkets in my hair out of my hair. They were resting in a small valise under the chair of this rather expensive carriage. How could they pay so much for such shoddy transportation? Of course, I was terrified of horses. Why? Well, once, when I'd been about five or six, I'd jumped out of our family carriage on the way to church and had nearly been trampled to death by a horse about ten times larger than I was. I'd escaped the mess with major bruising and a broken rib and now I was paranoid they were all trying to walk all over me. Silly fear, I know, but I hadn't tried doing anything to get rid of the fear once I'd run to sea. It'd been scary, getting into this small confined space with horses drawing it. Besides, the interior of the carriage was decorated with that horrible red color the curtains were. It was like being inside someone's body or something. I almost pictured blood dribbling down the crimson cloth covering most of the wooden carriage. It was a closed carriage, actually, because of my fear that I'd be recognized. And, as previously mentioned, it was expensive. I could buy enough food to comfortably live on for a week with how much the rental of this thing was. "This is ridiculous."

"So you've said." She seemed to be getting a bit mad with me. Well, I couldn't blame her. Sometimes I brought up topics that really bothered me five or six times in one conversation until I got it resolved in the maze that is my mind. She sighed slightly and started drumming her fingers on my knee. Maybe it was supposed to be a distraction. Or maybe she didn't realize she was doing it. It felt funny, either way, because the dancing fingers were hitting both my good hand and my knee.

I felt like I had to validate myself a bit as I turned my head away from the window and glanced at her again. She was beautiful, even with a tired expression pulling at the corner of her mouth. She was probably also in a lot of pain because every once in a while she'd grab my knee for a moment and grimace. "Well, it is. I'm not even sure if they've started livin' t'gether yet. The boy moves like a slug around women, honest 'e does."

"I know." Her hand grabbed onto my knee as the cabin jolted. Apparently we'd gone over quite a large tree root. Bloody tree...it made her face all pale. I hated seeing people I loved in pain...this was torture.

She wasn't supposed to agree with me, though. Obviously the two had consummated their marriage...right? I didn't really think Will was that slow. I just liked insulting him because he was such an easy target and wasn't very good at throwing insults back. "You'll be bored," I pointed out. I was grasping at straws...anything to keep me from knocking on their door. Captain Jack Sparrow, coming to get help from a respectable blacksmith with his own shop? That was ridiculous. Even more so because of the nature of this visit. How would they react when they saw me help out a pregnant woman half my age? I could almost picture the looks of surprise on their faces...it wasn't something I really wanted to see.

"You'll be with me. How can I be bored?" She grinned and giggled lightly, kissing me on the cheek impulsively as the horses' hooves started falling on stone, rather than dirt. Apparently we were entering the city limits. "Come on, Jack...the baby will be here, hopefully, in about a month. It'll only be another month after that. We can handle being in a stuffy city that long."

I sighed and shook my head lightly. "You'll still be bored. Ye don' know what aristocrats are like." She really didn't. And I did. She would soon realize why I'd turned to piracy. It was mostly to escape boredom. Of course, the life of a pirate wasn't all fun and games and killing people. There were long stretches at sea where life became very monotonous and boring, especially if there was no wind. But you didn't have to follow all the rules that civilized society devised...if you got bored on a pirate ship, you could start a game of poker after your shift was over. All captains carried around an emergency supply of alcohol, too. When spirits started flagging too much, you'd break out the barrel of rum and would have some sort of party to make a diversion. Wealthy people's parties were always incredibly dry and boring. Full of the same stuff the rest of their days were full of. I don't really understand some people's obsession with vanity...greed is so much more entertaining and it takes less preening and more hard work. In most cases.

"I don't think Elizabeth is that boring, Jack." Wow...she'd caught my insult to Elizabeth in that last comment. Then again, she had seen what had happened when I'd met Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann more times than I had. There were a lot of things I said that I think she understood more than I did. It was creepy. Of course, I don't like thinking of myself giving off odd references to things I've never heard of or considered without realizing it. Fortunately, she didn't point it out often.

"Well, you think wrong. I grew up wiv these kind of people..." I made a face and pretended to hang myself. "I'd almost rather dance the hempen jig, t' tell the truth." I grinned and chuckled lightly at the rather shocked expression on her tender and impressionable face. It wasn't often that I made a reference to death so lightly. Death was not a laughing matter, after all.

"Jack Sparrow...calm down. We're nearly there." She scowled at me slightly and then kissed me abruptly. Once that very pleasant experience was over, she grabbed onto my shoulder as the carriage turned and slowed to a complete stop. The driver jumped off the front of the carriage and onto the ground and started walking towards the door.

"I'd say we're here," I replied with a slight frown. She could tell how nervous I was, though, because of the look in my eyes, probably. Blast those eyes of mine...they were too expressive, sometimes. Ah well. She kissed me lightly again before the man opened the door.

"The Turner household," he announced, stepping back so I could get out of the carriage. Taking a deep, reassuring breath, I did just that. Well, this would be a grand adventure of a different sort, wouldn't it?

**

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Jack**: Jack is always rambling...or have you not picked up on that, yet? Sometimes his rambling is interesting, sometimes it is confusing...ah well. Thank you for the review, nonetheless. And I hope you found this chapter a bit more interesting. It was originally going to have Will and Elizabeth in it...but then Jack decided he wanted to do a bunch of rambling...As for the second child...well, there is ten years I haven't covered in his life...  
**sunkist3208**: Well, now you know that Rowling got that from Shakespeare. -nods- And that rocks! Tis always fun to talk to teachers about things other than school...I think that it'll be either Mr. Weasley or Hagrid. Well, maybe not. I need to read those books again.  
Thank you! I try to capture his character (of course, I captured it a long while ago...now I can't get out of it) in each of my chapters. And I like throwing in modern day views on things because it helps readers relate to him. Or is supposed to. Anyway, I wouldn't want to write a story about a man that treated women like a lesser species.  
I'm glad I clarified the name thing up for you...this next chapter is going to be difficult. Because I can't have Jack really introduce her to Will and Elizabeth. Maybe Elizabeth will just have to give her a nickname...I think Will might refer to her as Mrs. Sparrow or something stupid. Probably not. I'm just on a sugar high...tis nearly tomorrow.  
Thanks for the lollipop! I lurve giant pieces of candy!  
**Johnny'shumiliatedgrape**: Ha...I have the same way of thinking, now. I make the oddest connections because I have to think like Jack when I write this fanfic. You might want to check out my other fanfics...I go a lot more into Jack's history, in them. Of course, the story with the horse...well, that was made up for kicks and giggles, in this chapter. I've gotta give him some weaknesses, after all. He can't be perfect, even though he almost looks that way... -drool-  
Ah, yes. Thank you for the uber long review! It was so entertaining. And...well, I don't like giving people happy endings...no. Just kidding. This story will have a mostly happy ending, I promise. Of course, she won't be in the ending, which is why I switched off to Jack's point of view when they went to the past...but it will be mostly happy. I swear.  
I actually haven't seen pictures of his kids, but I imagine they're really cute. And I didn't intend to put that reference in there...or, rather, Jack didn't intend to put that in there...  
After seeing the Oscars tonight...well, I feel like I need to watch one of his movies. Of course, I didn't get home until ten from the Oscar party, so there wasn't enough time (yet what did I do? I typed this whole chapter up and stayed up that late anyway) for me to. But I personally own Benny & Joon and Pirates. My mum is giving me Secret Window when I go off to college...I'm not supposed to watch rated R movies but I do anyway if they have Johnny in 'em...obsessed, I am. We should start a fan club or a Johnny Depp Anonymous or something.  
He was really sexy at the Oscars, as I've said before. And I know that PotC 3 doesn't come out until 2007...six months after July 2006 is 2007.  
I think all teachers everywhere are trying to make our lives as miserable as possible...I've been going through a real slump, lately. Well, not yesterday and today. I got this chapter out of my head in about an hour and forty five minutes...the next chapter will be very interesting and confusing, all at the same time.  
"She" is almost 18. I shall mention that in the next chapter when Elizabeth says something. I already have about a quarter of that dialogue typed out...I find it helpful to write the dialogue before I write the actual chapter...if that makes any sense...when doing this fanfic because of Jack's rambling mind...  
I hope this was a fast enough update for ya. -grins- I really did enjoy your review...I like the long ones. And that is a snazzy pin. -snuggles- Merci!  
**orcachick2005**: Well, if it is helpful for you to let your ideas stew...go ahead. There was a time with The Emerald Eyes when I was actually a chapter ahead of my updates...that didn't last long. Sometimes I'm really in the mood for writing fanfics and I have to get it all up and updated before I decide I don't like that idea after all. That's happened before...  
And I hadn't noticed that you changed your first chapter. Fanfic doesn't send e-mails when that happens...I shall re-read the ending.  
I like writing touching things once in a while. Its so I can make you all cry-giggles- No, just kidding. Of course, I can't come right out on here and say what I have planned for her. I'm fairly sure most people who read these comments I make to your reviews have figured it out...but I can't answer that question directly. I might've already...  
Moving on, though, since I need to go to bed...  
I couldn't bear to kill of Jack at the end. It'd be like killing half of my brain. Honestly, I think like him...I'm becoming him. There's a lot less of Erica in everything I write...  
And I know that cats don't really have venom. That was out of context and sarcasm from me. The way I said it made sense, in the chapter. I was poking fun with sarcasm, you see. Venom can be more than stuff that makes your hand swell up and maybe fall off.  
It was a boring chapter...hopefully this one is a bit more interesting, even though it is boring too. Don't worry...the interesting one will be the one after the next one. And thanks for the review! (Good thing I don't have my address on the internet, eh? Otherwise maybe I would be mobbed...)  
**Eccentric Banshee**: Don't be ashamed, luv. Really, don't be. I know how hectic life can be. Honest, I do. I just want you to keep updating...I don't expect encouragement from such a good writer as yourself.  
Though...the bribes are nice... -forgives you unconditionally-  
Yeah...funny how you don't notice that, eh? I do. Boy, is it hard when there's two women in the same chapter. Jack sounds all possessive and whatever by calling her his bonny lass...the only real distinction I can make since Jack isn't going to marry her... If I'd stayed in her POV, it would be a lot easier..like Invisible Man or Rebecca. I've never seen Collateral. Maybe I should...  
I will give the story a mostly happy ending. I swear. It will just not be what you expect.  
I will and do and shall drop you a line. If that makes sense. I'm speeding through these replies so I can get this up and go to bed...bah. Stupid school.  
**CrazyPirateGirl**: Yeah...that sort of thing kinda happens. Especially when you're going for realism...since you happened to be the first person to leave a review after one of my updates, you get a loverly copy of the Pirates of the Caribbean game for Game Boy Advance. Thanks for the encouragement! 


	9. Chapter IX

Disclaimer: I shouldn't be writing this...but I am. 

AN (3/10): Sorry for the long delay. My computer completely spazzed over the weekend. And I had another Sterling Scholar interview yesterday. School...it feels me with dread and I wish I could just stay asleep until nine in the evening everyday...that's when I get my best ideas, I think.

(3/13): I'm gonna be lazy and only give short replies to reviews. The chapter is quite long enough as it is, anyway. Oh...and I'm sorry if this makes little to no sense. I typed half of it up at about two in the morning last night...

**One More Day: Chapter Nine**

The Turner household. Why did that strike such fear into my heart, then? It wasn't as though Will was going to turn me in to Commodore James Norrington. No...he would never do something like that. Did it matter that I had a lass with me that was carrying my child? Marriage was overrated, after all. Who needed it? Certainly not I. Why would I want to give her the last name of Sparrow? That just...it didn't go with her rather beautiful name. Yeah. It didn't bother me that I was showing up at a married couple's home with a woman that was just a mistress to me. Not at all. Sighing, I started walking up the pathway towards their rather small and quaint home.

Obviously Elizabeth had taken quite the fall (in society's eyes) when she'd married Will Turner. Of course, once his blacksmith started doing remarkably well (as it was sure to do, eventually) and he had a lot of money, he'd buy her all the things she wanted and would even get her a maid. Ridiculous...if Will had just turned to piracy, when I'd asked him to, he would've realized that he could make a whole lot more money in a lot less time. He could've always gone by some ridiculous nickname to keep from sullying his "real" one. Then he could've married Elizabeth and given her everything she'd been used to as the spoiled daughter of the town's governor. I wouldn't mind Elizabeth so much if she'd been more than an only child...she'd never gone wanting at all and didn't know how to empathize with people who had. She was an example of someone with a free spirit that reigned it in...I saw a glimmer of what she could've been like on that island. Could've, mind you. Her chances for change shifted dramatically as she decided to love the blacksmith instead of me, the scallywag. It was just a passing attraction, on my part. Honestly, how could I have done anything to her on that island? She didn't like me in that way and I was really battling depression, while there...hence the heavy drinking. Being on that island again...well, it was enough to drive me almost insane. If she hadn't been there...I surely would've lost what little sense I have left.

Of course, thinking while walking doesn't stop the inevitable-I was soon at the door of the Turners. It was a nice door. Simple and solid oak. I liked simple doors. Don't ask me why. Sighing, I gingerly knocked on the simple oak door. No answer. Of course, it had only been a few moments. It seemed like an eternity as I put my fingers on the doorframe and started drumming them. Where was the whelp? He should be home...it was just barely sunset. Generally one would assume that you'd finish up with work by now. Of course, this is Will I'm talking about. I'm sure after the initial few weeks of blessed bliss he'd go back to spending far too much time pounding metal.

After I'd nearly worn holes into the doorframe, the oak door slowly opened. Of course, I didn't really almost wear holes into the doorframe...it just felt like it. A faint smile graced my face as I recognized who it was. He looked completely bewildered to see me. In fact, his mouth actually dropped a few inches as he dumbly asked, "Jack?"

"Tha'd be Captain Sparrow, if you'd please," I replied with a grin. Couldn't he tell how nervous I was? Probably not...he wasn't the sharpest sword in his smithy, after all. There was a very uncomfortable silence as he still stared at me with those light brown eyes of his registering complete surprise and bewilderment. "Or Jack. It doesn' really matter, eh? I am the same person, after all, whether ye call me Jack or Captain Sparrow or even Mister Smith."

"Uh," he replied slowly, blinking a few times. I think that the fact that I was actually standing on his doorstep finally clicked in his mind because the look of confusion changed to curiosity. "What are you doing here, Jack?"

"A question tha' does need t' be answered, doesn' it?" I replied. My smirk seemed to be that much more mocking as he met my expectations. He was reacting like a holystone. Of course, we hadn't seen each other in nearly two years and that was only because he'd managed (somehow) to recognize me at their wedding. At the very end, mind you. "Well, Mister Turner, I am in need of some 'elp."

"What kind of help?" he asked suspiciously, glancing behind me towards where the carriage was waiting. She hadn't gotten out of the carriage yet because of my request for her to stay in until I knew if they'd help us or not. Okay (I love using that word, even though it makes her a bit distressed), maybe I did come across as the sort of man who only asked for favors when it profited me...this was probably one of the very few selfless acts I'd done. And it couldn't really be considered selfless, since I'd been the one that had put her in this condition to begin with...it really was all my fault, wasn't it?

"Does it matter?" I quipped. That boy would be the death of me, someday. He asked far too many questions that I didn't want to answer. "Le's jus' say it involves...well, I should probably jus' wait for Elizabeth t' come before tellin' ye. No sense in explaining it twice." Stalling...yeah, I was doing a lot of that lately. Almost like trying to stop time. If I could stop time, I wouldn't have to worry about the birth of my child.

"It's been a long time since we saw you last," Will remarked cryptically. There was some sort of warning to his voice...or was that just my over-active imagination? Why wasn't he going to get Elizabeth? Shouldn't he? Was I making too many assumptions? Probably...goodness, I really didn't know what was wrong with me. I felt frazzled each time I opened my mouth or listened to anyone speak. Almost like they were judging me. Will didn't even know about the baby...

Not long enough, though, since I saw them last. I did consider them both my friends...but they were too stiff for a man like me. "I know. Two an' a 'alf years. Ye look...well...respectable." That's as good a compliment as I could get out of my mouth. He looked well-fed and smug with himself. Well, mostly. There seemed to be a hint of tiredness on his face. Of course, that was probably because I'd showed up asking for help. Helping a pirate generally meant you were risking your life...

"Well, I'd hope so. I am a respectably married man, after all." Definite emphasis on the respectably...goodness, he was trying to tell me to leave, wasn't he? The boy had been mostly replaced by a man. Mostly.

"Ye think I'm about t' ask ye t' do something "unrespectable"?" I asked with a laugh. Should I treat him as a man? No. That'd be too easy. It was much more fun to tease him and watch my insults sometimes go over his head even though he was slightly taller than I am. "Hardly. Don' worry...this won' involve anythin' hazardous t' yer health."

Will thought for a moment, clearly weighing his decisions in his mind. He didn't have too many, actually, but that didn't stop him from looking like he was thinking harder than he probably had been thinking on any issue before in his life. "What is it?" Well, at least he'd learned a bit of caution, eh? Some men never did learn that. They would just blindly agree to do someone a favor and would end up losing everything they ever loved. Well, that's a bit of an exaggeration...but I think you get the point I'm trying to make, eh?

I really didn't want to come out and say it. So, I turned slightly towards the carriage and motioned my bonny lass to come out. The carriage driver offered his arm to help her keep her awkward balance and she stepped out. I smiled lightly at her as she smiled tiredly at me. Then I turned to look at Will again. "Satisfied?"

He seemed absolutely astounded. Obviously he hadn't been expecting to see someone in her advanced condition step out of that carriage. Or see anyone step out of that carriage, for that matter. "Jack?" he questioned softly after he was able to think a little again. "Who is she?" A logical question, eh?

"My reason for comin' here," I replied with just a hint of exasperation behind my voice. "She's going into premature labor an' the doctor said she needs some rest an' relaxation. D' you think we can stay for a month or three?" She'd better appreciate the sacrifice I was making for her. Captain Jack Sparrow did not ask people like Will Turner for favors.

However, the whelp only had to think about it for a moment before he nodded. At least he thought I was an okay friend, eh? I'd hate having to turn to someone else. They wouldn't be so understanding. "Yes. She and you can stay here, Jack. Elizabeth and I would enjoy the company."

Maybe all wasn't right in the Turner household. Of course, I could be imagining things. Instead of asking why they'd enjoy our company if they were a young couple in love, I merely smiled and bowed slightly. "Thank you." I'd probably never been so relieved in my life. She'd have somewhere safe to stay and she'd have the baby at the right time. Hopefully those blasted irregular contractions would go away...I didn't want to see my child die right as it left her womb. It would devastate the both of us, actually. I knew that she was looking forward to this baby, even though she was terrified about the whole birthing procedure.

She reached my side and I put my arm protectively around her waist after kissing her gently on the cheek. She looked so beautiful right now...I know that she thought she was fat and ugly, but she really did look beautiful. She smiled and extended her hand to the almost gawking Will. "Pleasure to meet you, Mister Turner." Her American accent was fading fast. Now she sounded almost like a cultured British gentlewoman. Where did she pick that up?

Will grinned and replied with, "Will. Call me Will," as he gently put her hand to his lips. Why did that bother me? It shouldn't. It was the respectable thing to do, after all. He muttered some nonsense extolling her beautiful name and how cheerful she looked. Yeah. She certainly looked cheerful, suppressing a sigh of pain as another contraction hit her. Or, maybe, she just realized how stupid Will was being. Hopefully. That man...gah. Trying to get on her good side and therefore on my good side. Maybe he just didn't realize how jealous he was making me, eh?

Stupid git. Sighing slightly, I decided to interject my professional opinion. I know that she was glad to meet Will because of her infatuation with that ridiculous movie (I had since determined that the man playing me had looked nothing like me (amazing how your memory 'fades' over time, eh) and the movie hadn't been based on anything but the bare bones of the story) and the characters therein...but she was my bonny lass. Will had already married his 'perfect' mate. "Well, now that we all know each other...can we come in?" Sure, I was still a bit worried that Will would say no...it was probably nothing, this worry, but I couldn't help but feel that something was going to happen while we were at the Turner household and that something would definitely not be good.

"Aye," Will replied, chuckling. He seemed to remember his manners and stepped away from the door, gesturing myself and my love inside their not-so-spacious abode. "I'll go and get Elizabeth. Back in a moment, Sparrows." I suppose he thought he was being cute by emphasizing that s, eh? Stupid whelp...he had a lot to learn about life still. If he'd just come with me when I'd offered him a job...well, it would've made everything easier, wouldn't it?

He disappeared up some simple stairs to find his precious bride as I gently grabbed my lass's hand and lead her into what was presumably the front room. "Wha' d' ye think of him?" I asked as I helped her sit down on one of their sofas (it could be a very lengthy process, these days) and sat down next to her.

"Just as I imagined," she replied with a slight laugh. "But you seemed just a little jealous, Jack." She was teasing me. I could tell she was teasing me because of the glint of mischief in her eyes. She had such expressive eyes...

I chuckled and shrugged. "Protectin' your best interests, luv. Tha's all." I kissed her quickly, knowing that Elizabeth and Will were headed down the stairs because of the footsteps echoing behind where I was sitting. Lovely. I hadn't seen Elizabeth since that day two or so years ago when I'd nearly been hung until Will'd saved me. We hadn't exactly parted amicably...but what did it matter? Elizabeth had gotten married and I'd gone on with my life after that night on the island...

Of course, nothing had happened between the two of us. She'd just been very drunk and I'd been drunk with both the rum and the dismay of being on that bloody island again. I believe I'm repeating myself...but I want to dispel some beliefs people in the fictional future have. Now, my bonny lass has told me about insane people out there that actually have me fall in love with Elizabeth or get her pregnant...you know, that just didn't happen. Nor will it ever happen. I know my place in the world. Besides, she's young enough to be my daughter. Nothing happened on that island.

"Jack!" Elizabeth greeted warmly as she approached the sofa we were sitting on. She looked just as lovely as ever. Marriage hadn't filled out her figure any...which was a bit odd, but I wasn't about to mention how gaunt and tired she looked. Maybe the life of a blacksmith's wife wasn't suited for the little princess, eh? Or...maybe she was just ill. I shouldn't make assumptions...it really was a bad habit. "It's been ages."

"Yes." Well, what else could I say? Goodness, I hated it when people left me no options in speaking. Like she had. I wanted to tell her that we wouldn't be much of a bother to herself or Will...but she hadn't brought up the subject at hand yet. Bother.

She smiled and glanced towards my lass. A flicker of jealousy flashed across her eyes so quickly that I was almost sure I'd imagined it. Almost sure. Maybe Elizabeth was jealous of the fact that I'd found a woman...but I really think she was jealous of the fact that my bonny lass was carrying my child. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss," she said cordially, holding out her hand.

My lass smiled and nodded. "Pleasure's all mine," she said as she extended her hand out to shake Elizabeth's. Now, that was just a bit weird. Generally, women didn't shake hands. They'd kiss each other on the cheek as a way of greeting, even if they didn't know each other. Of course, my lass was very used to shaking people's hands as a way of greeting and I didn't think Elizabeth particularly wanted to pretend to like my lass...

Could she really be that provincial? Goodness, so what if I was dating a woman a few years younger than Elizabeth? Did it matter? No. Was it any of Elizabeth's business? No. I quickly said her name to Elizabeth and added, "We'd like t' stay here for a few months until the baby's born. Is tha' all right?"

Elizabeth seemed a bit astounded. That stick known as Will obviously hadn't told her what I was here for. Gah. I could throttle him. She slowly nodded and said, "I suppose so," at Will's urging as they sat down on the love seat next to the sofa. "Why do you need a place to stay, though?" she asked a few moments later after several minutes of incredibly awkward silence. Trust Elizabeth to make me answer the tough questions I didn't want to address, eh? Of course, I could understand why she wanted to know.

"Actually," my lass said, taking the hint that I didn't want to answer that question by the look of annoyance that had flashed across my face as I'd listened to Elizabeth, "I'm threatening t' have the baby too soon. The midwife wanted me t' find a place where I can rest and not strain myself so the baby 'as a better chance of survival." She was obviously assuming that both Elizabeth and Will could tell she was going to have a baby. If they couldn't...well, I'd think they were both blind.

"Oh," Elizabeth replied with a faint smirk. Maybe she'd thought that we were hiding from the law until the baby was born or something. I don't know, but she definitely did have a better attitude around the expectant mother after that. "Well, we've got a room for you upstairs." She smiled all the broader at my lass. Maybe the two would do some female bonding later on. "Let me show you." She glanced towards me. "Jack, you can go an' get your luggage." She seemed to laugh softly at herself in her head as she glanced at the condition of my arm, so she looked to Will next. "You can help him."

Well, they probably didn't have servants or Elizabeth wouldn't be telling me to get my own bags, especially since I only had the use of one of my hands. She'd definitely taken a step down in comfort when she'd married Will. People do crazy things when they're in love, though. Like myself. It didn't even bother me that Elizabeth was ordering me about like a common servant. No...I wanted to escape this room and get the luggage and get used to living with these two...respectable people. It made me shudder, thinking how long I'd probably have to live here. Ah well.

I helped my lass stand and kissed her gently (both Will and Elizabeth looked distinctly uncomfortable as I did this. At least, from what I could see from the corner of my eye they did...) before bowing slightly. "I shall return wiv the luggage, then. Won' this be fun?" I don't think that either Will or Elizabeth caught my sarcasm as I left the boring little room behind. Will must've stood there dumbly for a minute because it took a few seconds for me to hear him start walking after me to assist me with all the luggage. It would be fun to lead them on...until, of course, they deciphered more of my personality. Bother. This really was a bad thing, living with them, wasn't it?

**

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Jack**: Yeah. I didn't really know how to act around my sister-in-law when she was pregnant. She had the same problem our dear protagonist is having...contractions a month too early.  
I'm glad you liked the last chapter...it was a blast to write. The next one will be...very interesting, indeed.  
**CrazyPirateGirl:** Perhaps he'd leave her in a few years...but not now. Jack's fallen in love with the lass. Of course, he will leave the Turner household without her. And I'm going to leave a lot of what happens at the Turner household up to your imagination...but it should be funny, the idea I have for the next chapter...  
**Daisy: **Alaska sounds like fun. Tis kinda cold up there, I've heard. My cousin once lived in Alaska. And then in New York. She just got married, too. Not that that has anything to do with anything. Anyway, thanks for the review! I enjoyed reading it and would type up a long reply to everything you discussed...but -oh crap. I forgot his hand was in a sling- I'm being incredibly lazy. Lazy is good, right?  
As for her comment about the baby being there in a month...well, it was hopeful. Liz had contractions early and Adelle was born right on time. Anyway...thanks for the review! (Yeah, I realize I just repeated myself. Do I care? No. I want to get this up there.)  
**Raisin:** Well, Sean Penn did do a good job in I Am Sam. Unless I'm mistaking my actors. Anyway, Johnny doesn't like speaking in front of crowds so I think he was probably relieved that he didn't win. And Sean Penn sounded like he was drunk, during his segment of the award shows. It was creepy. And seeing Johnny with the moustache and teeth...yeah. It was really snazzy.  
As for the cat fight between Elizabeth and our bonny lass...I'm not going to show it. Because Jack wouldn't see it. But, rest assured, it did happen. For reasons you'll see later. And...it will be a shock to Jack when she actually has the baby next chapter. Poor man...he's going to lose his mind and never want to see another pregnant woman again after what will happen.  
I really wanted to write a longer response...but I want to get this updated so I can stop worrying about disappointing people. Since you were the first reviewer (thanks for the reviews about From Anonymity to Infamy, by the way), you get a loverly picture of a unicorn that is all shiny and stuff. Thanks! 


	10. Chapter X

Disclaimer: I do not have permission to be writing this... 

AN (3/20): Right. So, this chapter was incredibly hard to write. I didn't think it would be so bad...until I mapped out the dialogue yesterday on the way home from a visit to my future college campus...goodness, I couldn't get past a specific spot...  
To top it all off, I'm getting discouraged. Come on, people. Leave a review. Even if you hate it. I need some feedback...I'm very very insecure about my writing, after all.  
Sorry its so short...after the long one last time...well, no. It's short because I didn't want to get halfway through what's going to happen next chapter.

**One More Day: Chapter 10**

"And then they made you their chief?" Will asked suspiciously, regarding me almost like someone regards a child telling an obvious lie. Why couldn't he believe me? If I told everyone the truth from this point on, no one would believe me. I actually had been made the chief of a community (though, it wasn't on the godforsaken spit of land I was referring to in telling the story to Will (seeing as I'd made myself governor there) after he'd asked me about being marooned) in South America. No one seemed to think that was really possible. But the bone in my hair came from a jaguar I'd killed down in the remote jungles (I had to do something with myself during those ten years the Pearl'd been kidnapped) as it had attacked the tribe's wisest sage and chief. As a reward of saving my life, they'd whittled one of the bones into something I could tie into my hair and had made me a chief. Of course, they knew and I knew that that had really been just a reward...I didn't actually have any power on their Council of Chiefs or whatnot. It was still a great privilege, though. And no one believed me when I told them I'd been made a chief before. I could always tell things as they'd really happened...but if people knew how it really happened, most of the mystery surrounding me would disappear and people would see me as I really am. That is something I'd hate to have happen.

Will was staring at me, clearly waiting for some response. Bah. I'd been seeing too much of the whelp lately. It wasn't like he was a bad chap, for he really seemed to care about my opinions on everything and seemed especially interested when I told him stories that could potentially involve Bootstrap. Of course, I usually left Bootstrap out of my stories...that man was scum. If he wasn't most likely dead, I'd tell Will exactly what I thought of his father. "Well, yes."

Will was thoughtful for a moment. It was amusing, seeing him think. It almost seemed to be a crime against nature, actually. Or a crime against his face. His light brown eyes shone with confusion and his thick left eyebrow was arched in a most curious manner as he tried to absorb my twisted views of reality. "Really?" His voice was full of both doubt and amazement. He was obviously trying to sort out what he really thought about me still. I was a man full of surprises, after all.

"Yes," I confirmed almost tiredly. Not that I really was tired. I was just sick of all his questions about the credibility of my stories. It did my heart good to think that he was thinking critically about what people told him...but it also bothered me that he didn't trust me. Even though I'd been going to his stupid blacksmith shop to talk to him a lot. Will had a lot of complaining about Elizabeth to get off his chest. Obviously their marriage wasn't all peaches and cream like he thought it would've been. She truly was a spoiled brat who was now going without most of the things she was used to. Physical comforts are always more important than feelings, after all. To make matters worse, (Will had only just confided this to me yesterday) Elizabeth desperately wanted to have a baby. But it appeared she couldn't. Either something was wrong with her or something was wrong with him...but they were both grumpy and miserable as a result. No wonder Elizabeth had been so jealous of my bonny lass...she seemed to be living vicariously through her at the moment.

"Oh." He sure had a lot to say as he turned to look at their stupid noisy clock. The constant tick tock was driving me insane. It seemed to make the wait take that much longer...each word seemed to take me twice as long to say. I was waiting for word of the birth of my child, actually...and I'd been waiting for nearly six hours already. Not that I was mad that I was being inconvinienced...my lass certainly had it worse than I did as I sat in the front parlor talking to Will.

His tone of voice was really annoying me. I wasn't in the mood to be annoyed. "Ye don' believe me, is tha' it?" I asked incredulously.

"Well, it does seem quite..." Will paused for the longest moment trying to think of the word he wanted. He finally settled with, "impossible," as he calmly surveyed me for any hint of a reaction he could use to validate his rather correct assumption that it was farfetched. How could I be a chief of a deserted island? I should've remembered that he would've talked to Elizabeth...well, maybe he hadn't heard her side of the story. That was probably a night that Elizabeth dreamed of forgetting.

I smiled slightly at the use of the word impossible. People really limited their own possibilities, by using hat word. Hadn't Will learned that, during our little escapade to rescue the fair Elizabeth Swann? "There really aren't many things that are impossible, mate. Jus' improbable."

"What?" Will was clearly confused by the turn in the conversation. I don't think he realized (yet) that I enjoyed rambling about anything that involved the impossible, the improbable, freedom, women, rum, or the Black Pearl.

I pretended that he'd really responded with something other than just a stupid 'what.' I didn't need to have another person around to carry on a conversation. I could do it all by my onesies. "Take me, for instance. Did ye think I'd ever be wiv only one woman before we showed up on your doorstep two an' a half weeks ago?"

"No." He looked like he was about to say more...

I decided to cut him off. He'd answered my question exactly the way I'd wanted him to. "What would ye 'ave told anyone who'd seen me wiv her before you saw me with her if they'd been tryin' t' tell ye I was wiv someone?"

It took him a moment to work through that jumble of words I'd flung at him. I liked confusing people that way. While they were busy thinking of how they should respond, it gave me longer to assess the situation and stay a step (or two) ahead of their evil plans. "I would have said that was impossible."

"Exactly." I paused for a moment, hoping he'd supply that it had really been improbable, instead of impossible...but he was still staring at me as the clock continued its constant monologue that no one would ever give a smashing review to. I sighed inwardly and continued, "Obviously it was possible, though, or I wouldn' be 'ere wiv her now. It was merely improbable. I 'ave a knack for doing the improbable."

Will seemed to agree with that, for he sent a small smile in my direction. Of course, he'd been the one to see me use such brilliance as walking underwater with the help of a boat. It couldn't be that hard for him to agree with me having a knack for doing the improbable, eh? Not if he had at least half the intelligence Bootstrap had. "Well, then...what is impossible?"

That through me for a bit of a loop, so to speak. I didn't think he'd been analyzing what I'd been saying that much. I'd assumed he'd fling some stupid comment about my knack for the improbable...but he was actually processing information and finding questions. I thought for a moment and replied, "Flying like birds. Everything else is pretty much fair game. Of course, ye also 'ave t' have a slight grasp of common sense, t' do the improbable."

"Very slight, in your case," Will interjected before I could clarify my point further. He seemed amused with the look of slight shock and admiration that flashed across my face before I could stop it. Will wasn't one to generally catch me so unaware. His barbs usually were predictable...

...I had left myself open, though. Only a fool wouldn't capitalize of a moment to make fun of the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow. "Yes, well..." I started. I almost got the next word out of my mouth as Elizabeth suddenly burst through the door. She looked incredibly exhausted and worried...that sent my stomach in a bit of a fit. What if something had happened to my lass? Or to the baby? Infant mortality was stunningly high, after all, and there was a very good chance the mother would die, too. Having children was not for the faint of heart.

"Jack?" Elizabeth asked swiftly, wiping at her brow with her hand. She was incredibly sweaty...and just looking at her seemed to make my temperature go up as well. Will shifted uncomfortably in his seat, seemingly feeling guilty for just making fun of me before bad news hit. As if he had control of bad news. Bootstrap was the same way. He'd feel guilty without a reason. And then he'd stick his grubby little hands in other people's business to try and make it right. The Turners...who needed men so racked by guilt? Especially on a pirate ship? Why were they blessed with such skill with the blade?

"What?" I asked, trying to mask the worry in my voice as I almost leaped out of the chair. I bumped a small table and a vase full of vibrant flowers tipped over, spilling precious life-sustaining water all over the rug. The flowers would be dead in at least an hour, if not less. Neither Will or Elizabeth seemed to notice the blue vase tipped on its side and the flowers almost already visibly wilting without that precious fluid. I wasn't about to point it out, either...I was far too worried about the look on Elizabeth's generally fair face.

"Come quickly," she replied, turning and rushing out of the door. I followed, keeping pace with her up their staircase and into the 'forbidden' room. This had to be serious. Midwives generally did not let men witness the birth of their children. It just wasn't proper. Men weren't supposed to acknowledge the fact that women had legs or hips or anything else...just a pretty face. Society was horribly restricting.

Elizabeth motioned me past the miserably sweaty old toad attending to my lass. I nodded and she grabbed a few clean towels before rushing downstairs to fetch more of the boiling water. I slowly walked over to the side of the bed, completely dazed as to what was going on.

She was on the bed, her beautiful hair spilling onto the pillow. Near her forehead, her hair was sticking at odd angles from mostly dried sweat. She managed a feeble smile as her small hand found mine and squeezed it. "Hello," she croaked. She looked absolutely exhausted. And still very pregnant. This wasn't good. Women weren't supposed to give up halfway through labor, right? Not that I thought she'd given up, mind you. She just looked too tired to have a baby. I wanted to scream at that demon child of mine to stop giving their mother so much grief...but that wouldn't accomplish anything.

"'Lo, luv," I replied, trying to sound more calm than I really was as the short and squat woman down at the foot of the bed kept alternating between evil glances at me and checking my lass's progress. "How ye doin'?"

She sighed slightly, her face contorting with pain as a muffled cry escaped her lips. Her hand clamped down on mine tighter than I thought possible. Actually, I'd never felt such a crushing handgrip...my fingers felt as though they were all broken. Not that I could blame her. From what I could see...actual labor was pure Hell. Doubly so for her. I knew that there were such things as painkillers from where she came from...but here...well, that was rum and or ale. Even then pain generally made people pass out during such horrible ordeals. "I hate you," she murmured, glaring at me after the contraction let her breathe again. "I hate you I hate you I hate you."

"I know," I replied, glancing down at the hand she was holding. Goodness, it was all white and red...she'd surely squeeze it again in a moment. "I don' blame ye, either."

"I hate you!" she sobbed. The sob suddenly stopped as a ear-splitting scream filled the small room. "Get it out!" she cried., once the scream abated. My eardrums were ringing. I hadn't realized she'd had lungs that strong. Of course, I'd never heard her scream like this before. "Now!"

The midwife merely shook her head, glancing up from whatever the heck it was she was doing down there. It really was worrying me, if I were to be completely honest. Her plain little face was scrunched up in deep thought as she lifted my lass's underdress to have another check. I assume she was checking how far dialated my lass was...but I didn't know for sure. I knew nothing about babies or how they were born. Nor did I really want to know. I was feeling light headed and I could see why men generally weren't allowed to witness the miracle of birth. "Naw, lass. Ye'll 'ave t' get it out yourself. Start pushin'."

I watched in absolute horror as she did just that. She paused every few minutes to get a deep breath and to get a better grip on my hand. This was...wow. Amazing. In a bad way. I wasn't even aware when Elizabeth entered the room again because the midwife was saying something that sounded like the baby was just about to crown. I must've blanked out for a moment...because before I knew it, I was watching the midwife pull the child from my lass and cut the umbilical cord. That nasty cord was choking the baby. The midwife then hastily unwrapped the umbilical cord from my beautiful daughter. She was a horrible blackish-blue color for the longest time. I couldn't even tear my eyes from that horrible scene to look at my lass, who was whimpering something about the pain...about all the pain.

The midwife soon managed to get the cord off and turned the baby upside down, vigorously spanking it while repeating, "Breathe, baby, breathe," so fast I could hardly make sense of what was going on. This was going too fast. Too fast. I was lightheaded and nearly cried with relief as I saw the baby change color and cry. It was a quiet cry (my daughter clearly didn't like being treated that way) but it was still music to my ears. I turned to look down at my lass and inform her of our child's gender and condition...but...

She was staring blankly up at me.

**

* * *

BLAH**: Thanks for the review. As for your comment...well, I try to stick in a lot of things that people obsessed with Pirates of the Caribbean should find funny. Otherwise my chapters would be far too dry. Plus, Jack's views on other people are rather funny and unexpected. I'm glad you like that it is from Jack's POV (tis exhausting for me to write it that way. I have to think like him) and that you want me to keep updating. Hope you enjoy this pivotal and climatical chapter... And that you'll leave me another review.  
**Eccentric Banshee**: Thanks for teasing me, loff. I enjoy being teased. Well, being teased is better than being poked. My older brother likes to do both, actually. He's a goober and I'm rambling.  
I'm not on Spring Break until this Wednesday, actually. My school district bites. -growls at it- Ah well.  
I hope you managed to kick your brother's butt! Thanks for the constant encouragement!  
**Raisin:** Gah. You were so not mushy. Mushy is like...saying you can't live without someone else. That's mushy. And so is rotten fruit.  
Yeah...Elizabeth did take a fall in society's eyes. One she's rather sore about. I think she might've hit her tailbone and bruised it or something. Top that all off with her inability to have children...poor lass. I also try to be very realistic, even though this isn't specifically real. Which is a pity...I just needs me a fictional time machine to go back and see Jack.  
Jack and Will hugging...yeah. That would just be too weird. Which is why they reacted that way. I was toying with the idea of more animosity on Will's part...but I decided to make him the nice guy.  
A lot of people think something happened on that island...I think Jack didn't let anything happen on that island because Elizabeth said no. He's got horribly liberal views on women...back then, men usually didn't think that women meant no when they said no unless they were nobility. And a pirate...well, Jack was also depressed to be on that island again. He let himself get completely wasted so he wouldn't have to bother trying to talk to Elizabeth or something.  
Thank you so very much for the review! I always love reading yours...they're interesting, entertaining, and informative.  
**IamCaptainJackSparrow**: Viruses are evil. I hate them. My computer...died because of one. Evil. People who make viruses are evil people. Thanks for the review, Jack.  
**Daisy: **Lazy is good. You get prize. Prize you get: chapstick. Thanks for encouragement. And for leaving review. You are supportive. Speaking in small sentences. Duh. Thank you, again. 


	11. Chapter XI

Disclaimer: I do not have permission to be writing this. 

AN (3/22): This is not really how I pictured this happening...but it seemed right, as I wrote this in English after reading 17 pages too far in _Heart Of Darkness_.

(3/26): Well...this is the last chapter. It was a blast, ya know. Writing from Jack's POV has given me a very skewed view on the world. And now I can ramble like him. Which is nice. I guess. Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed this sequel. I don't plan on writing another. It exhausts me, to write from Jack's POV...not as hard as it used to be, mind you. But keep your eyes open for another romance from me. I'm sure I'll get around to writing another one, once I have a dream that tells me what it should be about. And please read my other fanfics, if you think I'm a good writer. Read and review. I'm insecure, remember?

**One More Day: Chapter Eleven**

"Luv?" I asked, my voice catching somewhere in my throat. This was not good. Women weren't supposed to stare up at the ceiling with absolutely no expression in their eyes after giving birth the first time, right? Unless my education on the matter was even more miserly than I thought it was, she should be cradling the child in her arms in a few short moments to begin the bonding process.

Neither the small midwife nor Elizabeth seemed to think anything was wrong with the mother at all. They were busy trying to soothe my daughter-they ended up bumbling and nearly dropping the squalling child as they both tried to help at the same time. Women.

I didn't care that they'd nearly dropped the newborn. In fact, I'd hardly even noticed the near-disaster. My hand found its way to my love's pale cheek-and I felt my heart actually stop beating for three horrible seconds. When it finally restarted, there seemed to be a giant animal with gnashing teeth on my chest. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I couldn't see. I couldn't feel anything but her rapidly cooling cheek below my fingers.

She was dead.

My mind reeling, I barely noticed Elizabeth pat me on the shoulder to show how excited she was for me. When it finally registered what she was saying-"You should be very proud, Jack"-I turned to face her. The look on my face must have been absolutely appalling because she screamed lightly, saw my once-vivacious love's dead eyes, and started bawling.

I sat there and watched Elizabeth for what seemed to be the longest time as the midwife deposited my child in a bassinet and slowly covered my love with one of the white sheets, solemnly closing those unseeing eyes in the process. "I'm sorry," the midwife mumbled. "It happens." Her eyes shone with sympathy as she gently pried my hand from my love's cheek.

"It happens?" I numbly repeated. She nodded and pulled the white linen over my love's face this time. Gone. Gone forever. And it was my fault.

"I did all I could, sir," the midwife added a few seconds later. "She wasn' strong enough-her hips were a bit too narrow."

"Not strong enough?" I asked hollowly. How could she not be strong enough? More delicate women than her had babies every other year and were perfectly fine.

"Not strong enough," the midwife confirmed, looking just a little worried. She gently put one of her grubby little hands on mine.

"How would you know?" I questioned sharply. Anger was filling me as fast as I'd once seen undertow pull a child out to sea.

"I've seen 'er type before, sir. Mothers 'fore they really should be." Her eyes filled with anger as well. Which really was reasonable-she knew much more about birthing babies than I wanted to even think about.

"What d' you know about her, though?" I asked. A sob was threatening to surface-I reflexively suppressed it with anger and increased the likelihood of me exploding by about ten percent.

"I...uh..." She was clearly at quite the loss for words. It wasn't often she had to deal with the grieving husband/father. Men weren't allowed inside to see the birth of their children. My lass had probably asked for me specifically...and the miserable bag of flesh in front of me probably had seen she was going to die so she acquiesced. It was disgusting, the way her words dribbled from her mouth like a child taking a drink of something and then opening their mouth just to spite the efforts of their parent.

"Exactly!" I ripped her hand off of mine, throwing it against her side like a child moves a doll's arm out of anger. "You know nothing about her! She...she died under your care!" I'm almost positive my eyes were completely feral as I grabbed the midiwife's elbow. She cowered slightly and looked at the floor, her sudden burst of courage and anger gone as fast as rum in the _Pearl_'s galley that wasn't locked up disappeared. "This is all your fault!"

The midwife looked just about ready to burst into tears or scratch me in the eye with her fairly long nails or both. "These things happen," she murmured, trying to get rid of that monster of anger she saw in my eyes. To achieve that, she almost seemed to be begging me to strike her.

So I did. Right across her cheek. And then in the eye. Then across the cheek again. I felt no shame as I heard her nose break. I felt no remorse as she started crying. I felt nothing except for the rage and grief welling up to an almost unbearable level inside of me. Perhaps I should stop masking my emotions so much...it was undoubtedly making this tsunami worse.

In fact, I probably would've continued to hit her if it hadn't been for that blasted Elizabeth. She'd regained her composure and grabbed my hand with surprising strength before I could hit the midwife once more. "Jack!" she said, her voice absolutely horrified. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" I retorted, biting back a sarcastic comment about me taking care of trash. The midwife wasn't trash. She'd just killed my love. That's all. She was a scumbag...worse than those bootlickers I sometimes had in my crews that would never leave me alone and would always mess up schemes in my head.

"Jack," she said softly. "Think." Her voice was pleading with me to stop...and I knew it. But..the midwife...that cowering pile of bones had killed something perfect. And she didn't even care! And she'd even said that I'd been the one to kill her. It wasn't my fault she'd gotten pregnant...sure, I knew that I was the one who'd put her in that state, but she could've been more careful. If she hadn't been so inexperienced. It was my fault, wasn't it?

I blinked six or seven times before weakly letting go of the midwife. "Sorry," I muttered, taking a seat again next to the bed. She was gone. And it was all my fault. Again. I'd killed someone I loved again. She hated me. That was the last thing she'd said. She hated me. She hated me because she knew that I'd killed her. They all hated me because they knew I'd killed her. Elizabeth was looking at me like I was going to burst into flames or something. Or kill her too. I could see the fear in her eyes as she put a hand gently on my shoulder.

"Things like this just happen sometimes," she said smoothly, rubbing my shoulder in an almost matronly way. This was just wrong. This situation, all wrong. I would've given anything to have someone else comfort me. Elizabeth didn't know anything about hardships. Sure, she couldn't have a bloody baby. But so what? I'd lost the third woman that had meant something to me. First my mother...then Meagan...and now her. I couldn't stand to lose someone else. I was definitely not going to do anything but lust after women after this. I wasn't strong enough to lose another woman. I just...I couldn't handle it. So I wouldn't.

I shook my head slightly. I couldn't say anything in response to that. Now that I wasn't beating the poor midwife up any longer...I was having a very hard time controlling my other emotions. If she said much more, I'd probably start crying. Now, I fully intended to cry about losing my love...but not now. Not in front of other people. I'd do it on the beach and it wouldn't be the hysterical sobs that seemed to want to tear free from my soul at the moment. I couldn't cry in front of Elizabeth...that would just be too...well, hurtful to my pride.

Elizabeth seemed to sense that I needed some time alone, because she walked over to the cowering and blubbering midwife and started to soothe her before leading her out of the room. Once I was all by myself, I looked numbly at the shroud covering my love's face.

She really was gone, wasn't she? And it was all my fault.

* * *

The sea always had a calming effect on me. No matter what sort of mood I was in, it could always be dampered by just staring at the waves as they crashed along the shoreline or swells that would become waves playing with my ship. Something about that color of blue just seemed to...well, never change. Even during storms, there was always a hint of that playful blue in the water. The sea was something you could always rely on. Sure, sometimes things happened that were unexpected, but the sea will always crash against the shoreline. There will always be tides ebbing in and out. And there will probably always be people fascinated in the sea, people floating on the sea. People trying to outsmart the sea. 

I felt a lot better out here. Out of that horrible house. That deathtrap. I don't know how I'd managed to make it through the funeral, frankly, especially since Commodore Norrington and Governor Swann had attended. Why? I don't really know. Maybe they thought it would start to breach the rift between themselves and the Turners. I didn't care. I really probably wouldn't have cared if someone had recognized me and I'd been locked up in a cell. I would've liked to dance the hempen jig right now, actually.

I deserved it. I'd killed something perfectly innocent and loving. It was my fault she was dead. I hadn't even had the decency to marry her...or really tell her that I loved her. It had just been a game. And now it was too late. She hated me. I'd killed her. I was doomed...I could never get close to another woman again.

Sighing slightly, I brushed sand off of my shirt as I slowly stood up. There. I'd had a good cry about losing her. Now it was time to move on. I had to get back to the _Pearl_. Will and Elizabeth had already offered to raise my child for me. Which was a good thing. I couldn't be a father by my onesies...and they wanted a child desperately. It was almost too perfect. Now I wouldn't have to worry about having a toddler during my efforts aboard the _Black Pearl_. I could focus on being a captain. Which is how it should be. We'd shared a dream...a ridiculous dream. Children didn't belong on pirate ships. It was too dangerous.

It was time to move on.

* * *

"Hardly," I responded with a laugh. "It was hardly in me control a' all, Gibbs, an' you know it." The rest of the table laughed as I took a drink of rum. Amazing how comforting that liquid can be, you know. It was the cause of a lot of problems, yes, but it also helped you forget about things you'd rather not remember. There were a lot of things I'd rather not remember. Like breaking that midwife's nose. I'd rather not remember me losing my temper like some child... 

"Right, Cap'n, an' I'm the Queen o' England," Gibbs replied with a grin. He took a drink of his rum himself (purchased by myself) and looked around at the members of my crew sitting with us. They'd banded around me, after I'd returned a month ago without my lass...as if that would make me feel better. Well...it had helped, I must admit. If you want me to be truthful. The fact that they cared for me enough to spend time with me rather than strumpets...well, it was reassuring. "Am I right? Cap'n Sparrow saved all of our skins."

There was a hearty "Aye!" around the table as members of my crew took another sip of their rum after banging their cups together. Who cared that a lot of it had spilled onto the sticky floors? I was paying for it, after all. We'd managed to plunder a very wealthy merchant ship four short days ago...which was the cause for the celebration. For some reason, my crew seemed to think that I'd brought on that good luck. Apparently when I'd been gone, they'd been attacked twice and hadn't been able to get even a single piece of eight after a few unsuccessful attacks on what they thought were merchant vessels. Maybe I was good luck. But it was ridiculous, them thinking that. I was just an experienced pirate and could tell that the merchant ship we attacked would be an easy pick. It was nice, to feel needed.

Maybe I wasn't so horrible after all.

Anyway, I shook my head slightly and took another drink. "Crazy, the lo' of ye," I commented once I'd swallowed.

"Crazy t' boot," Gibbs agreed with a laugh. The rest of the crew laughed as well and we continued in our merry making until quite late that night. I excused myself from their drunken presence and started making my way back to the _Pearl_. I hadn't...I couldn't betray her memory so soon. So, therefore, I always excused myself once the strumpets started showing up and displaying their wares. I knew that I would be back to my old ways in a little bit...but I needed a bit more time.

Once out of the dirty atmosphere of the _Drunken Clam_, I made my way towards the beaches of Tortuga. They were probably the quietest place on the whole island. Most of the noisy people stayed up near the taverns and brothels...so the beach was an attractive alternative. I wasn't exactly tired yet, or I would've just gone back to my hopelessly empty cabin. As it was, a walk on the beach sounded quite nice.

Humming softly to myself as I reached the sand, I pulled my boots off just so I could experience the wonderful sensation of the sand beneath my toes. That, and, I liked to wince each time I stepped on a sea shell. No, actually, I'd forgotten that shells also liked being on the beach. Frowning as I balanced on one foot to pry one of the shells from the bottom of my foot, I heard someone crying. Now, I don't know why I let that bother me...it really is none of my business, when other people cry. But my first instinct has always been to try and help them to stop crying. I didn't like seeing or hearing people in pain. So, I tossed the piece of shell into the water and turned towards the direction I could hear the crying coming from.

There was a beautiful woman, on the beach, curled up in a little ball. I could just barely see her face in the starlight...what I saw of it was enough to make me want to know her and comfort her...yeah. Anyway, I walked over to where she was laying (and trying to stifle her sobs) and kneeled near her in the sand. "Are you all right?" You know, that is probably the dumbest question in the world. Of course she wasn't all right...she was crying. But I couldn't think of any way to start a conversation with her. Sure, I could ask her what she thought about the stars, but that would be completely ignoring the fact that she was crying.

"I'm fine," she replied miserably, desperately trying to keep tears from spilling out of her blue eyes like rain on a summer's day. "Can't you tell?" A slight smile graced her slightly swollen lips...

From this close, I could tell that someone had beat her. That was horrible. And it brought back visions of me hitting that midwife... Guilty, I gently touched her hand. "Can I help you?" All right...maybe it was bothering me that I'd never made amends with that midwife. Maybe helping this poor battered redhead would make up for that fact.

"Maybe," she replied, a few tears spilling over. "I don't know...can you?" Obviously her sarcasm was a defense. She didn't want to trust me because I was a man and could potentially hurt her again. How did I know she'd been beaten by a man? Well, a woman would've scratched up her face and would've pulled hair out. She only looked bruised.

"May I?" I asked softly. She slowly nodded and uncurled from her little ball. This would make up for the evil I'd inflicted on that blameless midwife...after all, it had been my fault she'd died. Not the midwife's. I needed to learn to take more responsibility, didn't I? Maybe helping this redhead would help me do that.

**

* * *

Lady Fae**: Sorry...she's been supposed to die for a while now. And I'm glad you like this one as much as the last...tis quite all right that you haven't been reviewing. Thanks for leaving one this time.  
**Raisin:** Tis perfectly understandable, loff. I don't mind that it took you so long to review. I'm just glad you did. )  
Yeah, Jack thinks Bootstrap is scum. You'll see why if you read The Emerald Eyes: A Tale of Mutiny. Jack doesn't trust him...I mean, Bootstrap was on that ship that left him on that spit of land, same as Barbossa. He just doesn't like to speak ill of the dead.  
I hate ticking clocks. Especially when I'm sleeping over at a friend's house and they have a ticking clock...means I can't fall asleep. Which isn't good. Me and sleep deprivation don't get along very well.  
Yeah, I knew that men weren't supposed to see any of the birth. But thanks for telling me. Twas very considerate of you.  
And Jack referring to the baby as a demon child...well, he was scared about the whole process. Nervous, if you will. He's afraid the child will be absolutely horrible. And it was causing his love a lot of pain...and did kill her...so maybe it is a demon child.  
The whole birth was in fast forward to Jack. I'm glad you caught that...I delibrately had everything else really slow. Because he was completely shocked by what had happened. Poor man...he's never been around a woman giving birth before. Which is completely understandable, since he's a scallywag and a man.  
And I lurve cliff-hangers! They're fun!  
As are surprises! I want a surprise! Did I update soon enough? And I do plan on majoring in English with an emphasis on creative writing.  
Thanks for the review! I lurve reading your reviews! An' tell your mom hi for me!  
**CrazyPirateGirl:** Very true. Not all stories can be happy. The sad ones seem to stick with people better. Thank you for the compliments and the review!  
**blossomlite**: She really is dead...sorry. Look at it this way: Jack's a bachelor again. If you ever get a time machine built, you'll be able to chase after 'im. Thanks for the review!  
**sunkist3208**: Perhaps Will really is. I'll have to ask him... -giggles- "Did it hurt?" Of course, I dont' think he'd answer...but I should ask him anyway. Don't worry about not reviewing, Whitney...I haven't reviewed your stuff in ages. Sorry 'bout that...I'm so bloody lazy. Anyway, Thanks for the Pookie beanie buddy! I lurve it! And thanks for the review. I appreciate it.  
**Daisy**: Yep, she's dead. And I hope you noticed that the person on the beach is...well, you. Happy? You're in there. And that is so not true. Most of what you say is very important. And I like hearing (or rather, reading) it. Honest.  
I can definitely understand that you're lazy. I'm lazy most of the time myself. Thank you for your constant encouragement, nevertheless.  
**IamCaptainJackSparrow**: I've often heard that mothers in labor will tell their husband they hate them. Of course, I'm sure they don't really mean it...for long. Anyway, you should be worried about that blank stare. Because she's dead. As I'm sure you've discovered. And he shouldn't be with women for a long time...he ends up with children and ends up with them dead. Bad track record, if ya ask me.  
And you were very right with the title. He wanted one more day with her...even though he never said that...I should've had him. Oh well. Thanks for the review. Since you're first...you get a lovely monitor! How does that sound? 


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